An Unbreakable Resolve
by DevynQ
Summary: In the wake of the death curse which threatens the royal infant's future, Maleficent struggles to maintain the peace within the Moors while Stefan does everything in his power to bring her down. Meanwhile, the great Mistress of Evil also finds herself developing feelings for her pet, Diaval, and Princess Aurora, who grows more graceful and curious by the day. Maleval & some Malora
1. Chapter 1: Retribution

**Hello all! I recently watched _Maleficent_ for the first time, and I was blown away! I was so excited to finally view a film that focused on the villian/antagonist's side of things, and Maleficent herself was everything I'd hoped for! Angelina Jolie was perfect for the role. I loved Maleficent and Aurora's strange yet adorable relationship, and I also started shipping Diaval and Maleficent before the movie was over! I decided to write this fic because I knew there was no way I could keep my perspective of the movie to myself~~**

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**CHAPTER ONE: RETRIBUTION**

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Maleficent cast a fleeting look over her shoulder as she strode through a slim opening in her Wall of Thorns. Branches and rocks tumbled out of her way, cleaving a smooth path that led straight into the thick and magical realm known simply as the Moors. All around her there lay an unnerving silence. No one and no thing dared even tremble in her presence for fear of waking her ever-present wrath.

At the present time, however, she was feeling quite satisfied with herself.

"Diaval," she called, glancing up at the overcast sky.

The raven was there a moment later, black wings fluttering restlessly in the air beside her. With a careless flick of her fingers, the raven became a human, and the human a man with silky black hair and eyes to match.

"Yes, mistress."

"Ah, there you are," she said, smiling drolly. "I wondered if you'd flown off in a huff, never to return."

"Of course not," he answered at once, though his eyes strayed sideways, glancing at her to decipher her mood. "Though you did cause quite a…"

"Spectacle?" Maleficent laughed, delighted. "Well, yes, that was my intention. The look on Stefan's face…I shall treasure it forever." Vivid green eyes flashing with mischief, she batted aside low-hanging tree limbs, her magnificent staff pounding against the earth at every step.

"I'm sure he won't forget this. He's a vengeful man," Diaval said carefully, picking his way through thorns and tangled underbrush. The Moors' foliage didn't move out of the way like it instantly did for his mistress.

"I see the truth in this," she admitted, gazing again at the dark sky. "But, nevertheless, the deed is done. His daughter's life is forfeit."

Diaval frowned as they crested a large hill, the one overlooking Maleficent's frightening tree-like home. "Aren't you worried the king will find a way to protect her? Or, better yet, find a young man who may bestow –"

"True love's kiss?" Maleficent interrupted, scoffing. "Diaval, my boy, there's no such thing." She paused atop the hill, her eyes absorbing the massive, twisted chair she'd deemed her throne. "Don't you see? That's why I chose this curse. There's no undoing it. She is destined to sleep until the stars fall from the sky and the earth shudders and breaks apart."

Diaval was more chilled than he'd like to admit, but still, he dutifully followed Maleficent down the hill and across the horrid-looking moat that surrounded her throne. Everything here was dark, so utterly and terrifyingly ominous, that even a raven tended to shy away. Maleficent usually sent him on tireless errands throughout both the Moors and the human kingdom, so he seldom spent any length of time here.

Maleficent herself was rarely around this area of the Moors, too, despite it being her only safe haven. For the past several years, she'd been intent on creating chaos and spreading it throughout King Stefan's kingdom. She would never give the king a moment's rest, Diaval knew, not until she herself was dead. That was the price he must pay for tearing the wings from her back.

"What do you think the king will do?"

Maleficent turned, her long black cloak swirling around her, and gracefully sat down on her throne. She still kept the staff in her left hand, unwilling to relinquish it even for a second. "About the curse?" she asked, pursing her lips. "Try to kill me, I imagine."

He shook his head and leaned against the trunk of a particularly large tree. "No, with his daughter."

Maleficent sighed. "She'll doubtless be sent away somewhere Stefan deems "safe," though he has to know that the girl will never escape my curse. It will find her, one way or the other."

Diaval nodded, watching his mistress's face carefully. "And if Stefan _does_ try to hunt you down before the curse is enacted?"

Her brilliant emerald eyes flicked around the quiet forest before settling on his curious black ones. She smiled hugely, her white teeth glittering in the eternal darkness of the Moors. "Why, that is impossible, Diaval dear. Stefan cannot hunt anyone or any_thing_. He does not have the hunting capability. He is the prey, and I am the predator." She caressed the smooth black arm of her towering throne. "I always have been."

Diaval nodded and stepped back, succumbing to the gloomy night, and thought, _But what of your wings? He took them from you with such hideous force. This king is more dangerous than you think._

But he dared not speak these doubts aloud.

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**Feedback is always appreciated, my friends! Leave a comment or review :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Unrest Among Realms

**CHAPTER TWO: UNREST AMONG REALMS**

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Two years later and all was chaos.

Armed soldiers patrolled the Wall of Thorns separating King Stefan's kingdom from the Moors. Catapults were spread every fifteen feet or so, with bonfires burning at all hours in between. The men wielded fire at every opportunity; Maleficent found the burning not so much irritating as tiresome. She had to constantly be on the look-out for more damage to the outer areas of the Moors, and she would spend tense minutes, sometimes tense _hours_, repairing her carefully crafted defenses.

The Moors itself was as silent and dark as ever, but there was unrest among its residents; even Maleficent could sense it. The humans beyond the Wall of Thorns were persistent, though she knew that that was due more in part to Stefan's all-consuming passion to wipe her out. The men themselves seemed tired and restless, and this alone told Maleficent much more than words ever could. Stefan's paranoia was wearing him and his kingdom down. It was only a matter of time until Stefan did something rash and exposed a weakness. Maleficent would patiently wait for that moment, and when it arrived, she would crash down upon his kingdom with all the vengeance of a thousand wronged fairies.

For now, however, she maintained her perch above the child princess's isolated house. The brick structure was very large but not well-kept. The three witless fairies still fluttered about on light human feet, despite the absence of their wings. They leaped gracefully to and fro, preparing meals for the small babe and cleaning the brambles and mountains of leaves from the front yard. These were mindless tasks, but then, there wasn't much else to do besides watch over the king's daughter. Unfortunately, they were making a poor job of it.

The little beastie would not shut its little yap.

The child screamed for hours on end and would not be calmed down by a warm bottle or peaceful nap. The soothing noises that the fairies made seemed only to incense the child, if anything.

"The hapless thing has no idea what to do," she sighed, her shoulders weighed down with fatigue.

"She's just a mere child, mistress," Diaval said quietly, watching the princess wave her fists with rage.

Maleficent snorted. "I don't mean the babe, Diaval. The blue one – what's her name, Thimble? – flings herself about with not a single care for the child's screams. Is she hard of hearing?"

"I believe that one's name is Flittle, mistress, though I do agree. Are they turning a blind eye or do they simply not care?"

Maleficent hummed, pondering the situation. Not without some irritation, Diaval noticed, though he couldn't blame her. He'd scarcely gotten a lick of sleep since the child's endless crying jags began. He was beyond exhausted, but the deep circles beneath his mistress's eyes worried him more. There seemed to be something else worrying her, something besides the constant crying and the soldiers beyond the Wall of Thorns. He wished he knew what it was that caused her such deep apprehension. What hurt her hurt him as well.

Deciding to broach the subject, at his own peril, Diaval opened his mouth, but Maleficent suddenly raised a hand. He immediately knew what was coming, and cringed.

"For the love of all things, rock the brat's cradle, Diaval. I cannot take a moment more of those ear-splitting wails." She flicked her wrist at him. "Into a raven."

Diaval's stream of complex thinking shrunk to that of a simple animal. Squawking, he began to rise above the tree-tops when he heard Maleficent's voice from below.

"And bring her one of those pink amaryllis flowers from the nearest bog. She'll suck contentedly on that, I should think."

Diaval the raven crested over the trees and hills of the Moors, tilting his wings towards the house of the three fairies. He would always do his mistress's bidding, no questions asked. Especially when such a task was as curious as this. She seldom executed an act that did not benefit her in some way.

_Curious indeed_.

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Maleficent sat on one side of a massive cliff, her cloak swirling out around her. Up here the sun shone brilliantly, and patches of pure white fluff mixed within the shimmering blue of the sky. The air was fresh and wholesome, enjoyable to her keen senses. The grass beneath her was soft and yielding, and a light breeze lifted the black tassels dangling from her neck. Her heart was unburdened so high up in the Moors, where no man could reach.

On the opposite side of the cliff, a young Aurora frolicked in the tall grass, shouting with glee. The three fairies who'd been charged with looking after her well-being were concentrated only on each other and their mindless tasks – sewing, was it? Maleficent sniffed disdainfully. _These three couldn't take care of a rock, much less a living thing_, she thought, watching carefully as Aurora strayed further and further from the fairies.

"The child has already grown independent of them, wouldn't you say?" Diaval asked, suddenly appearing.

Maleficent turned to examine her closest follower. He had his arms crossed, and his long legs were also crossed loosely at the ankles as he leaned against the thick trunk of an oak tree. The long strands of his inky black hair were smoothed back from his pale, searching face, leaving his onyx eyes unhindered to gaze at her. She couldn't say precisely why, but those eyes of his had always made her distinctly uncomfortable. They knew far too much. She would never outright acknowledge this, of course; admitting that someone else possessed even an inkling of power over her was tantamount to admitting weakness, and that was not something Maleficent would ever willingly do.

"Don't confuse ignorance with independence, Diaval," she chided mildly. "The girl knows only what the fairies have taught her, and the fairies haven't taught her much of anything. So she roams freely, without a care in the world, while danger lurks." Maleficent sighed, world-weary.

A small smile threatened to spread across Diaval's lips. "You're awfully observant of this girl whom you claim to despise."

She shifted, narrowing her eyes. Aurora was blindly following a blue-black butterfly, and the two were moving ever closer to the steep edge of the cliff. "Someone has to be observant; it might as well be me. Those caretakers of hers aren't useful for anything but cooking and sewing heaps of hideous blankets."

Diaval nearly laughed aloud at his mistress's dramatic shudder. "Ah, but I bet you secretly covet one of those blankets, mistress. Your eyes tend to spark every time you catch sight of one."

"Spark with horror, perhaps," she muttered, stretching out her fingers. They'd become cramped from gripping her staff so tightly. Aurora was indeed very close to the edge of the cliff now, and the fairies had yet to realize she was missing.

Diaval had instantly taken note of Maleficent's growing alarm. He took a hesitant step forward. "You should stop her before she gets too close."

"I didn't realize your counsel was needed, Diaval."

He bowed his head. "Pardons, mistress, but it would be in your best interest. With no child there will no longer exist a curse."

She sighed again, though the muscles in her jaw were clenched. Aurora was nearly over the edge. "Yes, this is true. I shall need to stop her, or no one else will."

Aurora, eyes glued to the butterfly which spiraled out over the endless ravine below, scrambled forward, only to realize too late that her feet were pedaling air. She fell with a wordless shriek, but only several feet past the edge. A giant vine crafted from the spare brambles and leaves and pebbles littering the cliff's side wrapped around the little princess's waist and lifted her up and up and up, setting her back on her tiny feet. Aurora glanced behind her, paused temporarily with a head tilt that conveyed curiosity, but the vine had already vanished. She blinked twice, then turned and fled back into the tall grass, off to chase another unfortunate insect.

"Well done, mistress," Diaval said softly.

Maleficent merely pursed her lips. "I need no praise from you, Diaval. Into a raven."

Black wings sprouted in place of arms, and a beak protruded where there once was a mouth, and Maleficent could not have been any more relieved.

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**Thanks for reading! Right now I'm going to be focusing on a lot of necessary, kind of background/set-up type of stuff, but that should only be for another chapter or two. Let me know what you think! :)**


	3. Chapter 3: The Illness

**Thanks to everyone who's commented/reviewed my little story! Hearing others' thoughts and opinions always makes me more aware of what I'm writing and how I should write it. I hope you enjoy this next installment :)**

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**CHAPTER THREE: THE ILLNESS **

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Tensions between King Stefan's minions and Maleficent were mounting, and her constant unease made her unable to stomach food. She could not eat the trolls' radish stew or the delicious, fleshy flowers of the meadowlands or even the tall purple stalks of berrywood that she so dearly loved. Despite her growing weakness, the power within her never waned for a second; in fact, it seemed to increase each and every day, manifesting so quickly that Maleficent wasn't sure she could contain it for much longer. However, her pale skin grew paler, and the already thin bones in her face became even more prominent.

One afternoon, while she was running her hand through vibrant grass smooth as silk, her vision blurred, casting double images into the sky, and the colors of the trees and plants all mixed together into a kaleidoscopic haze. She blinked rapidly, her back suddenly rigid as she tried to rid herself of this sudden sickness. It took several moments, but her vision soon cleared, and her shoulders relaxed, and Maleficent's burning green gaze returned to Aurora, who was picking a large bouquet of mismatched flowers two fields over.

Fifteen minutes later and it happened again.

"Why, what a curious little sensation!" she exclaimed with false amusement. Diaval was in raven form, perched above her in a tree with few limbs, and she didn't want to arouse his suspicions. She could see his furry little head tilt to the side, but that was all.

"I'd rather not experience _that_ again," she muttered, knowing intuitively that the double vision and the sudden kaleidoscope of colors were both signs of her desperate hunger.

Her stomach would rumble on occasion, but she herself did not actually experience any pain or discomfort. She _knew_ she was hungry, but she did not _feel_ it. Diaval surely had noticed the tautness of her skin, but he was surely not aware that she had ceased eating entirely, and for almost a fortnight. She intended to keep it that way; if truth be told, she really did not think much of her lack of appetite. It was merely a symptom of her unavoidable stress.

"Diaval, dear," she called, inexplicably listless. The raven immediately flew down from its perch, landing on a large rock in front of her. "Would you check for lily pads down by the northernmost pond? The sky looks ominous today, and I fear a dreadful storm will soon be upon us." Using magic, she prepared for approaching storms by lifting three or four giant lily pads above her throne to shield her and her servant from rainwater…on the rare occasions when it actually stormed, of course. These days, the storms seemed to be _on_ the ground rather than above it.

The raven dipped its head and took flight. Maleficent watched the bird disappear from sight before rising slowly to her feet. She'd sent her faithful follower on a needless task; she did not require lily pads, at least not today. Rainwater was the least of her worries.

"What a bother this is turning out to be," she huffed, walking stiffly through the trees. She leaned heavily on her staff, more so than normal. The pain in her stomach was bordering on extremely unpleasant, and Maleficent did not want Diaval around if something were to happen. She was positive that he would look down on her for this weakness.

"Of all the unnecessary ailments…" she continued, annoyed. Striding across the field beside Aurora's, the fairy settled her gaze on the child's blonde head.

She was a chubby-faced little thing, with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that spoke of future trouble. The princess was indeed turning out to be a beauty, unlike her father in his youth. Stefan had been pale and ungainly, but most of all uncertain about his place in life. Aurora seemed to already know herself and everything around her; in fact, the child reminded Maleficent of herself when she was a young girl. Always curious, always wandering about, touching things and yearning to know why this was and where that went.

Maleficent shook off these troublesome thoughts once Aurora turned to gallop away, the bouquet of flowers waving about in one tightly clenched fist. Her staff hammered the ground, the vibrations sending terrible thuds through her own head. She felt old – old, slow, and so very, very weary. This was unlike her usual mood, and her current state would've worried her if only she had the capacity to worry.

Maleficent faltered in step, the staff in her hand wavering against the ground. She seemed unbalanced and a tad confused. But she could not fall apart here; there were still many leagues back to her throne, and it would not do to be out in the open once the storms descended on the Moors.

Maleficent chanced another step forward…and fell.

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"This is not a good place to sleep."

The little voice penetrated the darkness surrounding Maleficent, and she swam back to herself, grasping at consciousness. Through luck – or maybe something else – she managed to open her eyes and blink at the graying sky. It was an hour or two past sunset; the sky itself could hardly be seen through the thick layer of clouds fat with rainwater.

Her whole body ached, and she found it difficult to speak. "Where am I?"

"The meadowlands, of course," said the little voice cheerfully.

When Maleficent did not respond right away, a little finger that doubtless belonged to the little voice poked her shoulder. If there was one thing Maleficent despised above all else, it was being touched without consent.

"What?" she snapped peevishly. "What is it, what do you want?"

The little voice paused before answering. "I want to know what you're doing out here. It's going to rain."

"I can see that," she grumbled, her eyes growing heavy once more.

"No!" the little voice exclaimed. "You must go home."

"I have no home."

This seemed to throw the little voice off. When it spoke next, it sounded unsure. "Surely you have somewhere to rest?"

"Surely I do not."

A pair of watery blue eyes set in an angelic face peeped into view, blocking out the overcast sky. "Why, everyone has a home," Aurora exclaimed, nonplussed. "You must go at once."

"I must do as I decide, and no more," Maleficent responded, staring intently at the princess's face. She had never dared come so close to the girl. This new perspective was odd but enlightening…and somewhat scary as well.

"Knotgrass would say you're very stubborn."

"Knotgrass would be correct in that assumption."

Aurora giggled as if she'd said something amusing. "Who are you? I am Aurora," she continued, "and I live in a large house with my three aunts."

"Yes, well, that's all very well and good, but I must –" Halfway through the thought, Maleficent blanked.

Aurora gazed at her innocently. "It's going to rain," she said again.

"Yes," Maleficent agreed, suddenly confused.

"I have to be getting back now. Knotgrass will yell if they have to come search for me, and Flittle will make bread but none of the good pieces will be left if I'm late." With that bit of information, apparently so important to a guileless child, Aurora was off, leaping over non-existent obstacles and batting aside tall weeds that threatened to break her stride.

_What a curious little creature_, Maleficent thought vaguely.

She did not wake again for three days.

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**What did y'all think? Let me know! Also, most of the background/set-up and everything should be fading away at this point; the story starts to really come into focus as we finally get to the present time when things get interesting. I'm thinking I'll release a new chapter once a week! **


	4. Chapter 4: Awakening

**Hi all! Thanks again for the reviews, favorites and follows. Here's the next installment! Enjoy :)**

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**CHAPTER FOUR: AWAKENING**

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"I am frightened for her," he whispered, and the sound of his voice stirred something within the former fairy. Maleficent shifted slightly, her back tingling, as she searched for him. Though she could not see nor touch nor even sense him, she searched.

"Why did she not tell me of her affliction? She has to know I would have done everything in my power to help her, to make her better again. I do not understand…" Diaval trailed off, unable to keep speaking his thoughts aloud. Everything within him ached. He had been despairing for nearly three days, overcome with panic and a restlessness he had never experienced before in all his long years.

Diaval had located the requested lily pads within a few hours, and he had called to her within his mind. For an hour more he had patiently waited, assuming she would respond to him in her own time. But a response did not come, and Diaval had grown irritated. He'd flown swiftly back to her throne and the moat surrounding it, sweeping over the tree-tops with a fierceness that surprised even him.

Maleficent sent him to do his bidding all the time, but she seemed less appreciative of late. He knew that the war waging between his mistress and the king of the humans had been taking a toll on her, but that was no reason to treat her most faithful servant so poorly. Of course, he owed her his life; Diaval would never forget that. But that did not warrant disrespect on her part.

However, Maleficent had not been sitting on her throne, nor had any of the creatures which lived and thrived within the Moors seen her since early that morning. Diaval had seethed, assuming his mistress wanted to make him angry by failing to appear. He had waited until the next afternoon for her to return, but return she had not, even when it began to rain.

He grew worried then. Calling out wordlessly in his mind, Diaval had waited and waited and waited for a response, but none had come. Almost a full day had passed since he'd heard from his mistress last, and so he finally decided to go out and scan the Moors. His rage forgotten, he searched for Maleficent for nigh on six hours.

It was well past nightfall when he found her in the meadowlands.

She was limp and unresponsive, her skin so cold he had trouble touching her. When he did, though, Diaval inexplicably transformed back into a human. He'd blinked, astonished, and stared at his mistress with an expression bordering on horror. She'd fallen on her stomach, and her arms were flung away from her body. The magnificent staff she had created to assist her in walking had rolled a dozen feet away, and it sat half-buried in mud from which tall weeds sprouted. The rainwater had not ceased since Diaval began the hunt for his mistress, and so her cloaks were soaked through, her face splattered with more mud.

Calling upon the creatures that lived within the moat surrounding Maleficent's throne, Diaval had helped carry his beloved fairy back to her home, where a large tent made of his collected lily pads awaited. Elephant-like trolls and other woodland creatures tromped to and fro, strengthening the tent, making a soft bed of leaves and flowers that Maleficent may lie on comfortably, and keeping the elements at bay; the rain was drained away, the winds buffeted, and the large chunks of hail redirected. Afraid of her though they were, the creatures would still do anything to keep their fairy queen safe, Diaval most of all.

He fretted for hours on end and dared not sleep a wink while Maleficent lay vulnerable. Though he was ever grateful for the help given to him by the creatures of the Moors, he would not permit any of them to touch her, or even so much as draw close. He watched over her protectively, straightening her cloak, smoothing out the leaves that made up her bed, sheltering the staff she rarely relinquished hold of so that it would not be damaged by the storm. The blustering winds and soaking rain and booms of thunder raged on for two more days while Diaval worried relentlessly, and Maleficent slept without so much as a twitch of the eye to show that she could still be counted among the living.

"I see very clearly that this is my fault," Diaval said now, swamped with guilt. "I should have realized something was amiss. She hadn't been eating very well or very often, and she seldom spoke about anything important. The war with King Stefan was always on her mind, taxing her strength, distracting her thoughts, garnering all her attention… And I called myself her most loyal servant!"

She could almost find him…so close was his voice, yet so weak her body and so empty her resolve. In truth, Maleficent wanted nothing more than to sleep. She was aware that she had been sleeping for quite a while, and that it would not do to sleep for much longer without dire consequences, and yet she desired the blissful silence of sleep. If only she could locate that voice, draw it close against her chest, hug it tightly against her body…

"What if she does not wake?" he wondered softly, horror-struck. "What if she does not return to me? I won't live without her," he decided abruptly. "Our lives are too intertwined, you see – one cannot be without the other."

_He sounds so forlorn_, she thought tiredly. _So terribly, terribly forlorn_.

Then she felt a hand on her forehead, and a soft breath feathering her cheek. The warmth of another human body seeped through the air and surrounded her, and all at once she was encompassed within a heat so intense she thought she might burst.

"You must wake soon, mistress. You have us all worried, the water fairies and the trolls and even the tree warriors. Come back to the Moors, my queen."

_But I am so tired. So terribly, terribly tired._

"I fear we will all be vanquished soon if you perish, mistress. There are rumors of the king's intent, and those rumors say that his new weapon is iron and steel and all manner of harmful metals. _Please_," he whispered, "_please_…"

_Does he speak so frightfully_ _of_ _Stefan? But the king has inched nearer every day, why does the presence of a few metals make any difference? _She sighed inwardly. _This endless war and that damnable child. How will any of us prosper?_

"…_Maleficent_…"

It was her name on his tongue…and then her voice filled the air.

"Begging does not get you anywhere, Diaval," she said hoarsely, her eyes flashing wide open. "In fact, it makes for an unattractive means of negotiation."

The relief she saw in Diaval's eyes was vast, but she could scarcely recognize the emotion, for the beating of her heart overrode everything. _Maleficent_, he'd whispered, and she had woken.

"M-mistress," he stammered, eyes and voice swelling with delight. "You have woken."

"Indeed," she said drily, "and if you wouldn't mind taking a step or two away…" She gestured for him to give her some space. The time for resting was over.

"Of course, of course, my apologies," he said, tripping over his own two feet in his haste to give her room.

Maleficent sat upright, the bones in her back and neck cracking. Now that she was up and moving again, she felt rejuvenated. "Pray tell, how long was I asleep?" she asked.

"Three days, mistress," Diaval said at once, drinking her in.

"I see," she said, frowning. "And what, may I ask, am I sitting in?"

"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed, wringing his hands nervously. "You requested those lily pads as shelter against the coming storms, which was an admirable foresight as it's been raining for two days straight, and, well, you see –"

"You thought to use them as walls for a bedchamber instead." Despite her inflectionless tone, she was impressed.

"Correct," he said, pressing his lips together anxiously.

"You need not worry, Diaval," she said with a wry smile. "You've done well."

His shoulders sagged with relief. "I'm glad you think so, mistress."

Maleficent noticed that her cloak had been washed and now rested smoothly around her shoulders. Her skin was clean and unblemished, and her staff was leaning against the lily pad wall in the far corner. It did not appear to be damaged.

Struggling to her feet, Maleficent said, "Well, I imagine Aurora has gotten into a bit of mischief during the time I've been away –" Her voice cut out when Diaval swiftly reached out to steady her, holding her elbow firmly.

She blinked up at him but could not find any words.

Diaval realized at once what he'd done wrong, and he ripped his hand away, flinging it aside as if he had branded her skin. "I'm so – Mistress, I don't know what possessed me – Forgive me, please, I meant no –"

Maleficent chuckled. "Don't hurt yourself, Diaval. You've not committed a crime. In fact…" This time, she reached out and ever-so-lightly grabbed _his_ elbow. "I do need a bit of steadying," she admitted sheepishly.

All the breath seemed to escape from Diaval's chest. "Of course, of course," he said again, drawing Maleficent to his side. In truth, there hardly seemed to be any weight to her at all. She was rail-thin, as light and airy as an amaryllis flower, even wearing her heavy black cloak.

"My staff," she requested, and Diaval moved the two of them several steps into the tent before the wooden walking stick came into reach. They grabbed for the rounded top at the same time.

"Oh, my apologies," he stammered, immediately retracting his hand.

A secret smile played across Maleficent's blood-red lips. "It's quite all right, Diaval. And please, for my sake, don't go apologizing at every other word. It's tiresome to hear."

He bobbed his head, his eyes roving over her face questioningly. _Something's changed_, he thought, perplexed. _But what_?

Maleficent herself wasn't quite sure, but she knew that all would be revealed in due time. That was how the world worked.

"Has it stopped raining yet?"

"Yes, within the hour, in fact."

"Then I wish to sit by the stream, so long as it has not flooded," she said, raising her chin defiantly. She wasn't sure why, but she felt that her loyal servant would protest against this plan.

Sure enough, a flash of doubt appeared within the depths of his black eyes and was gone again an instant later. "Mistress, if that's truly what you wish…"

"It is so," she interrupted firmly.

Diaval began to move aside to let his mistress pass, but when he noticed how tightly she gripped her staff, and how she seemed to eye the opening of the tent with mistrust and maybe a hint of doubt, he decided against leaving her. Never again would he stray for so long from her side.

"Here you are, mistress," he said simply, and extended his arm once more. She took it wordlessly, and together they exited the lily pad tent.

The air was scented with the smell of jade and berrywood stalks, and the trees bristled wetly with fresh rainwater. Everything seemed a bit more alive now that the storm had passed; the surrounding forest appeared clean and welcoming. Maleficent pursed her lips thoughtfully; the Moors hadn't been like this since she was a small child.

"I shall sit over there," she decreed, pointing her staff at an elevated area of rock that overhung the stream.

This particular body of water – as there were many that could be found throughout the Moors – was only a dozen or so feet from the small moat surrounding her throne, but it was much bigger and deeper. It stretched five feet across and wound all the way down to the meadowlands and beyond. Some said the bottom was more than fifty feet below the surface, but Maleficent had seen no proof as yet. The stream also presented a much prettier picture, surrounded by flowers as it was, whereas the moat was gloomy and covered with an indefinable film.

"As you wish," Diaval repeated, and escorted her one step at a time over to the stream.

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**There isn't anything drastic going on so far, I know; I like writing about the atmosphere and establishing a relationship before escalating it. But don't worry; there will be some action in upcoming chapters! Let me know what you think~**


	5. Chapter 5: The Banks of Symphony Stream

**Hi, everyone! I'm posting this late on Tuesday instead of on the usual Wednesday because I start classes tomorrow and will likely forget to post something during all the back-to-school, prepare-to-be-stressed-out mayhem! I hope you like this next chapter! :)**

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**CHAPTER FIVE: ON THE BANKS OF SYMPHONY STREAM **

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Maleficent tilted her chin to the sky, basking in the day's unnatural warmth. Birds fluttered around her, sapphire-bright blue jays and plum-headed lovebirds and violet-necked lorikeets which filled the air with their cheerful birdsong.

"I dare say, the air seems fresher than I remember," she exclaimed, breathing deeply through her nose. Hands lying limp in her lap, Maleficent gazed calmly at the stream. She was able to breathe easier now, and her stomach and chest didn't hurt so horribly. Everything seemed much clearer than before, when colors mixed and her thoughts betrayed nothing but confusion.

"Very fresh," Diaval remarked tonelessly.

"What's wrong, my pretty bird? I sense there's something off with you, ever since I awakened." Maleficent frowned down at her raven-haired servant, concerned. He'd seemed slightly off-kilter while she prattled on about inconsequential things, and that alone was a sign that something was wrong; Diaval was usually the one who babbled without paused about trivialities.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing's wrong, mistress." Yet his actions said otherwise.

"Now, now, don't play coy with me, Diaval. Tell me what's bothering you."

There was no denying her when she used that tone of voice. "I was very concerned for you, mistress," he said slowly. "You were dead to the world for quite some time."

Maleficent waved a dismissive hand. "Bah, that's nothing. I was merely succumbing to some well-needed sleep. Besides, there's no longer any need to worry. I'm awake now and feeling back to my old self…which should frighten you, my bird."

Diaval ignored the jest. "The creatures of the Moors were afraid you would never wake."

"Ridiculous," she scoffed, trailing a hand through the water. "As I said, it was nothing so ominous. Now, let us talk of something else. All this babble about sleeping is boring me, dreadfully so." Her chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. "What has the little princess been up to these days? She hasn't fallen off a cliff or choked on a berrywood stalk since I've been gone, has she? Those fairies are frightfully unreliable, you know."

Diaval tilted his head, considering her. "Mistress, if I may…"

"Of course, speak your mind."

"Why did you refuse to eat?" he blurted.

Maleficent blinked. "Why, what do you mean?"

"Don't be coy," he said sharply, forgetting himself. "You know exactly what I mean. Why would you hurt yourself like that?"

Maleficent closed her eyes for a brief moment. "It was not something I _chose_ to do, Diaval. I fear the stress of Stefan's war caused a lack of hunger in me." She paused, avoiding his eyes. "It is not a topic I wish to discuss further."

"Because you think it makes you weak." He nodded, starting to understand. "That's why you did not say anything, despite the paleness in your cheeks and the limpness of your hands."

Maleficent clenched her teeth. "I said, I do not wish to –"

Diaval raised his hands. "Yes, yes, my apologies." But he jumped off a small rock which hovered over the stream and sat gracefully by her side. "Am I not given leave to worry, mistress?"

It was all she could do to prevent an eye-roll. "You may feel whatever you may feel, my pet. But I tell you with the utmost sincerity that this lapse in strength will not happen again. It was a moment of pure weakness, and –" She had a tough time admitting that last part, yet she had to finish. "I will be better prepared next time."

"Ah, well," Diaval said, surprised that his fearless leader would admit such a thing. "Hopefully there won't be a next time."

"There always is," she muttered darkly. There was a long, suffocating pause, and then she asked, out of the blue, "Is there a name to this stream?"

"Indeed," he said, cocking his head. "The woodland tree animals call it Symphony Stream."

"How quaint," she said dryly, eyeing the stream and the small creatures that burrowed into the sand on the muddy banks.

"Oh, come off it," Diaval chided, a smile gracing his lips. "It provides a wonderful view from your throne."

"It does," she acknowledged, frowning. He seemed a bit too cheerful with the change in topic. "Tell me, what's made you so happy?"

He pressed his lips together and looked away, abashed. "You're awake now, and back to your old self, as you said. But you don't frighten me, mistress, not anymore. I like hearing your voice," he added, staring intently into the stream.

Her chest tightened for an instant, and Maleficent rubbed the spot absentmindedly. "Well, that's something new," she said ponderously, "and I'm not sure I like it."

Diaval paled. "Oh, I –"

"Only because your speech is so blunt, and I'm unused to such directness."

He tried to keep his smile at bay and failed. "I do hope it's not offensive to you, mistress. That's not my intention. However, I must admit, it's…nice to express myself with such openness."

"Indeed it is," she said softly, observing the way he preened in the sun's warm rays, his inky hair tossed out of his face, strong hands gripping the surface of the rock, long legs clad in black pants stretched out beside her own. There was something about him, she sensed, something wholesome and familiar, as if she could look at him and see a part of herself.

"Now," she said sternly, "speak to me of Aurora. What has the little beastie gotten into these past three days?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Diaval's eyes sparkled intently.

"Why, of course. With those bumbling fairies doing such a poor job of looking after her, there's no limit to what could go wrong when I'm not there to oversee her well-being."

"Well, then, I warn you, mistress, you won't like what I have to say." Even so, there was a mischievous smile on his lips, and Maleficent could not help but laugh. Diaval watched her silently, marveling at the tinkling quality in her voice and the way her bold green eyes flashed with amusement.

"There are many stories," he added solemnly.

"And doubtless many more to come," Maleficent said, and when she glanced at him with her eyebrows raised, he smiled again and began to tell of Princess Aurora's adventures.

They sat for hours, and were content.

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**Comments, questions, complaints (well, I hope not)? The next chapter is several years later, so be prepared for a huge time-jump! **


	6. Chapter 6: Thirteen Years Later

**Hello again! This week's chapter is pretty long (by my standards, at least). Enjoy~~**

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**CHAPTER SIX: THIRTEEN YEARS LATER**

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_Thirteen Years Later_

King Stefan's kingdom was abuzz with the making of swords, spear tips, scabbards, catapults, ringmail and all weaponry known to exist within their world. Each and every inch of the king's war arsenal consisted entirely of iron. The shiny silver metal casted rays of refracted light all throughout the human world as well as within the Moors where fairies, trolls and other magical creatures resided. The construction on the other side of Maleficent's Wall of Thorns had been going on for years and years, and now it seemed that King Stefan was finally in possession a metal artillery like no other.

The king himself, however, resembled a beggar; he had distant, shadowed eyes, deep wrinkles lining his forehead, a puckered mouth that never wavered from its continual frown or grimace, scraggly gray hair that was as wild as the remotest parts of the Moors, and a beard that hung nearly mid-chest. He'd grown twitchy and anxious in the years following Maleficent's curse, and paranoia shone day and night in his wide, unblinking eyes.

Meanwhile, behind the Wall of Thorns and within the magical realm known as the Moors, Maleficent grew stronger and wiser. Her green energy sometimes took on a life of its own, and she could almost walk without her ever-present staff. However, she still tended to keep it by her side, as it seemed to display some magical properties of its own. Her body grew lean and resilient, her mind sharper, and her eyes ever more green. They were a striking emerald, flashing with anger or excitement, curiosity or annoyance, depending on her mood. With Maleficent's growing power, the realm flourished as well; the trees stretched as tall as mountains, flowers bloomed in patches that covered miles of fields, and the creatures that inhabited the Moors thrived, surrounded as they were by succulent foods and beautiful lands.

Diaval had also toughened up; he was an inch or two taller, with broad shoulders and arms and legs corded with strength. His inky hair was cut short and swept back from his forehead, as he knew Maleficent preferred. There was a keen intelligence hidden within his onyx eyes, an intrinsic knowing that had formed while he spent most of a decade by Maleficent's side. He had also grown more in-tune with Maleficent and her moods; whenever she felt something, he did too. Whenever she dashed one way, he was beside her an instant later. They moved as one, and sometimes their thoughts tangled.

Exactly thirteen years after that day by Symphony Stream, Diaval watched his mistress with new eyes. He had given up trying to ignore the intimate feelings that stirred within him.

"She grows ever more beautiful," Maleficent said curiously, gazing after the princess who tumbled about in colorful piles of fallen leaves. She was only a fortnight from her sixteenth name day, and her luscious blonde hair fell in waves to her small waist. Blue eyes as soft-looking as the petals of the indigo chrysanthemums which grew in the far meadowlands stared out at the world, reveling in all its earthy glory. The girl was flawlessly pale and slight of build, and her smiles were radiant and unceasing.

Maleficent wasn't sure if she found the little beastie entirely tolerable or not, though she _did_ think Aurora was exceptionally intriguing.

"She grows pretty as a sunflower," Diaval agreed, eyeing the princess with indifference. She was a beautiful young maid, sure, and although he had lived for too many years already, he only looked like a man of no more than thirty...however, she was not whom he envisioned spending the rest of his life with.

Maleficent chanced a quick glance his way. "If she had resided within Stefan's castle, he would be looking for suitors by now."

Diaval dipped his head in acknowledgement. "That is true."

She hummed in the back of her throat, contemplating. "She seems to have a sharp mind as well. Not that those fairies had anything to do with it."

A smile flitted across his lips. "Of course not. It was all _your_ doing, my queen."

She furrowed her brow. "Do not mock me, Diaval."

With a swirl of her signature black cloak, Maleficent strode away, her black mood not far behind. She'd noticed that her faithful little follower had started to pay closer attention to the princess, and she wasn't at all sure how she felt about that. Surely she was not jealous that his eyes were wandering; with no females other than herself in sight, it was a wonder he hadn't already stolen away to the human kingdom to find some buxom wench. Although unbreakable ties had formed during their time together, Maleficent knew that she was not the most amiable of company. But she _had_ been lenient in some ways; she had forbade him call her mistress or any other ludicrous titles, so long as she agreed to use his true name instead of calling him a "pretty bird" or an "insufferable winged beast." In her mind, these were gestures of friendship.

In truth, she could not blame him for his wandering eyes, although she also could not deny that something within her ached when she caught him doing so.

"Aurora," she called out, her voice breaking the tranquil silence of the meadowlands. This was where they usually met, since her house with the fairies sat just beyond the tall, golden stalks that covered the earth for miles.

"Godmother!" replied an excited voice. Aurora raced into view, her blonde hair flying out behind her. She wore a light green dress with white lace, and her skin was flushed from all the activity. She made a pretty picture.

Maleficent hoped her raven stayed away.

"I was wondering when you'd come!" The princess bounded around Maleficent, swinging her arms and twirling the hem of her dress.

"Stop that at once," she demanded with mock severity. "You'll give me a headache with all that foolish spinning."

Aurora giggled. "But I do it so well!"

Maleficent rolled her eyes, though there was a small smile on her lips.

"Where's Diaval?" the princess asked, eyes wide and imploring.

Something tightened within her chest. "He's likely probing the forest floor for worms, my dear. Ravens enjoy that sort of thing."

"He's always by your side," Aurora said, pouting, "and he's wildly entertaining." Something must have flashed across Maleficent's face because she added, "Don't you agree?"

She forced a smile. "Of course. But he's busy now. Don't worry, there will be plenty of opportunities for you two to play around." Even saying so made Maleficent ache. She hated to acknowledge that her precious servant preferred the company of this girl over her. She couldn't expressly say _why_ this bothered her, but it did. That uncertainty vexed her more than anything.

"What shall we do today?" Aurora asked, jumping around excitedly.

Maleficent couldn't care less as long as the activity was safe and within her sight, but she stopped a moment and pretended to consider their options. "Well, there's always Symphony Stream. The air's sticky with heat today."

Aurora shook her head impatiently. "No, no, we've already done that _twice_ this week." She sighed, gazing up at the sky. "Why don't we venture through the Tangible Forest? I'm sure the trees will provide sufficient cover, and we can explore!" The mere prospect made her eyes light up with anticipation.

"If you wish," Maleficent said agreeably. Anything to divert her attention away from Diaval. Pounding her staff against earth made brittle by the heat, she gestured for the princess to lead the way, and lead she did.

Breathing in the humid air, the fairy queen allowed the little princess to stray only a dozen or so yards ahead; she would not chance them being separated by some hungry creature or one of the many winding paths. The Tangible Forest was known for leading unsuspecting travelers astray. Aurora was too precious to be unsupervised for long.

Wiping beaded sweat from her forehead, Maleficent huffed and moved uncomfortably beneath her thick black cloak. The material was heavy, and humans within the king's realm had been known to whisper that the cloak was so filled with shadows that it actually absorbed the sun's rays and smothered all light. Maleficent did nothing to discourage these wild fabrications.

"Oh!" Aurora exclaimed, and Maleficent's eyes instantly lit upon the girl. She was examining a small pink flower with obvious pleasure. "What's this called, Godmother?"

"It is an amaryllis flower. You played with them quite a lot when you were younger," she explained, the sturdy, dark pink flower bringing back many memories featuring Aurora at play. She would tuck them behind her ears and intertwine the stems to make messy bracelets while frolicking amongst the less flattering weeds and damp foliage.

"I like it," she said, and plucked it gently from where it was rooted to the earth. "Maybe I can start my own little flower garden back at home. Wouldn't that be splendid?"

Maleficent knew that the garden would only survive so long as the princess's attention remained fixed on it; she tended to spend all her time on one discovery only to abandon it within a fortnight when she made another discovery that seemed more enticing. The fairies would never try to keep the garden going by themselves; they were too self-absorbed. But Maleficent also knew what Aurora wanted to hear, and so she said, "I think it's a grand idea. In a few days' time, your garden will be the most magnificent collection of flowers within all of the Moors."

Aurora smiled widely with glee. "That's very kind of you to say, Godmother. It'll be the most pleasurable place in all of the Moors...and beyond!"

_I wouldn't count on "beyond_," Maleficent thought with a small frown. _King Stefan doubtless has other issues that require his attention. _

"And these?" the princess asked, gesturing to a large group of brilliant yellow flowers.

"Sunflowers, my dear," Maleficent said, humoring her.

"They do remind me of the sun," Aurora said softly, eyes large and bright. "I shall take them all!"

"Best leave some for the forest creatures' enjoyment, Aurora. You wouldn't want to deprive them of such beauty." Saying this made her feel unaccountably sad. The Moors had flourished plenty over the years, that was true enough, and yet Maleficent couldn't help but feel as if there was a sort of beauty missing in the land…a beauty taken away from them by the humans and their metal weapons, relentlessly poking and prodding in an attempt to find a way into her homeland.

"And this?" Aurora asked, pointing impatiently at a single red rose dripping with dew.

"Why, that's a –" Maleficent broke off, suddenly tense.

The princess cocked her head, confused. "Is something wrong, Godmother?"

The fairy queen raised a hand, motioning for silence. She could have sworn there had been a noise; a soft crackling of leaves beneath a boot, signaling a stealthy approach. There was a tightness in her chest, and this usually signified that something was amiss. Distracted by Aurora and her silly, simplistic amusements, Maleficent hadn't been paying apt attention to their surroundings. She could've sworn she'd seen that tree before, the one with the missing bark halfway up the trunk…and that muddy mound of dirt and choked weeds that seemed to grow simultaneously larger and wetter the longer she gazed at it…and didn't it seem a bit gloomier in this area of the forest than where they'd been previously?

With dread in her heart, Maleficent moved around a dense copse of trees and stopped short, the knuckles on her left hand whitening as she gripped her staff with bone-crushing pressure.

"My Wall of Thorns," she whispered, her pulse hammering at the base of her throat.

She looked to the left and then to the right, and almost couldn't comprehend what she was seeing; the interwoven vines and branches that made up her Wall were on fire. There were at least three or four spots just within her sight that were blazing with purple and white flames. The sight itself was totally unfamiliar to Maleficent, and that was how she knew that this must be the work of some new weapon created solely to destroy the barrier.

"Godmother?" Aurora said from behind her, sounding curious but not afraid. "What's going on? Is there something –" She came running out of the forest and nearly fell over in her haste to stop before stumbling into the thorns. "Oh!" she gasped, blinking with astonishment.

"Back," she whispered, and then louder, "_Back_, Aurora, you must _get back_!"

The alarm in her voice made Aurora stumble behind her, but she remained within sight of the Wall. "What's happening?" she asked shrilly, eyes alighting on the white and purple flames. "Why does the fire look so peculiar?"

"Never mind that," Maleficent said hastily, keeping one eye on the girl and the other on her precious Wall. "We must be going now, you especially. We never should have strayed this far. This was my mistake." Grabbing the princess tightly by the arm, she added, "It is not safe here."

Her eyes would not move from the Wall. "But what _is_ –"

"_It is not safe here_!" Maleficent roared, her fear and apprehension pouring out in an angry explosion. "Come, let's –"

Maleficent broke off. There was a soft whooshing noise, growing ever closer, and she knew that could only mean one thing. A heartbeat later there was an enormous eruption, and then a wave of heat washed over the two women. Aurora gasped loudly, her skin rippling in the heat, and Maleficent swiftly moved to cover her with her own body, drawing her large cloak around them. She could hear the vines and branches of the Wall crackling and burning away; whatever new sorcery the king was using to try and penetrate her barrier seemed to be working. Black smoke filled the air and shut out what little sunlight still shone through the gloom.

Faintly, Maleficent could hear Aurora choking, gasping for a breath of fresh air. The heat pouring over them ceased, but she knew it would only be minutes, maybe seconds, before a new blast hit them. Unwilling to succumb to the panic swirling within her, Maleficent began moving further away from the Wall of Thorns, half carrying Aurora. She knew what she must do next, should another wave of fire arrive, but with the princess in her care, she dare not divert her attention even for a second.

Overhead, a raven cawed and swooped down low over their heads. Maleficent's lips twitched up with relief, and she shouted, "Into a man!"

Diaval dropped gracefully to the ground on all fours but was instantly on his feet and by her side. "My queen," he said, eyes landing on Aurora.

"The princess is unharmed," she said, nearly shoving the girl into Diaval's arms in her haste to free herself. "But the smoke is getting into her lungs. Move away from here and return to the moat. Do not leave until I have come to get you."

Something flashed deep within Diaval's eyes as he lifted the princess into his sturdy arms. The flames roared mightily behind them. "But Male-"

"_Leave at once_," she commanded, in a voice that brooked no argument, and then she whirled away, black cloak swirling, as a second whooshing approached from beyond the Wall…and at an alarming speed.

Raising her hands high above her head, staff held tightly in her left hand, Maleficent prepared to fight.

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**I hope you like it! Tell me what you think :) Until next week..._au revoir_!**


	7. Chapter 7: Wounds of the Heart(and Body)

**There are still several more chapters left, just so you all know! Enjoy this latest chapter :)**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN: WOUNDS OF THE HEART (AND BODY)**

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In all the world, there was only one smell: the acrid stench of burning leaves.

The Moors was a wasteland. Not the entire realm, fortunately, but for a mile on both sides of the barrier there was nothing but ash and dust, dead bodies and crows, smoke and debris, fiery embers and tilting trees…and the Wall. Maleficent's Wall of Thorns remained, though scarcely anything else did.

The soldiers on the other side fled when faced with the sheer power behind Maleficent's assault. Her green energy, which signified both her power and the magic within that power, seeped over the miles and miles of vines and brambles that were being burned. She managed to snuff out the flames before they could spread, but the damage had been done. King Stefan's "White Inferno," as his men had taken to calling it, had destroyed an alarming amount of foliage. The Wall had once been impenetrable, but no longer, it would seem. However, it was still thick and next to impossible to walk through. Virtually nothing could break through the dense wall of vines and branches and rocks and other such elements of the earth.

But Maleficent was worried now.

She walked stiffly back to her throne, her mind screaming in silent agony. The White Inferno had burnt the skin along her exposed arms when she'd raised her hands to defend her home. Both of her inner forearms were scorched almost entirely black, and there was a distinct swelling near her wrists. She could barely move either arm, and so keeping her staff within her grasp was a near impossible challenge. The rest of her body had suffered minor burns as well, and although there were no other visible signs of these burns, the pain she felt was exquisite. It was everywhere, all at once, and there didn't seem to be an end to it.

She moaned softly as she walked, not daring to scream or rage aloud. She did not wish the others to know of her injuries. They were painful, sure, but not something she couldn't handle by herself.

A shrill shout stopped her in her tracks. Maleficent's head snapped up and she glanced around the surrounding forest, but she saw nothing. A few moments later there was another shout, followed by a bout of laughter. Trying not to tense up, Maleficent hurried to the edge of Symphony Stream, where she could see her throne and all that it overlooked.

Diaval and Aurora were splashing around in the water, laughing and smiling up at the gloomy sky. Several rays of sunlight illuminated their pale skin and twinkling eyes; Aurora's as blue as a newly sprung cornflower, Diaval's as dark and depthless as the bottom of a well.

Her very first thought: _They go well together_.

It was true; they were mirror images, one light and airy with always-present optimism, the other dark and heavy with the world's secrets. He would do something to make her laugh, and she would flounce about with blatant theatrics to make him smile. One would retreat while the other rushed forward. It was like a musical dance, one that Maleficent had been privy to many times before.

_The looks he throws her way, and the steadying hand he places on her shoulder, and even the brightening of his features when she opens her mouth and lets loose a careless laugh...he must fancy her_, Maleficent thought, blank-faced and unfeeling.

She felt a tiredness deep down in her bones that she knew would never go away.

"You must allow me to strike back!" Aurora said breathlessly. "Elsewise it won't be a fair fight."

"There will be no fair fights in this realm," Diaval growled, and lurched forward, splashing the young princess. She shrieked with laughter and tried unsuccessfully to dodge his attempts.

"Not fair!" she called, giggling all the while. "Not fair, not fair!"

"It might be I'm just awfully good at this game." Diaval grinned.

"Oh, very well." Aurora rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips, glaring. It was not very well done, however, and it was only a moment more before a smile stretched across her face and she started giggling again. Suddenly: "Look, over there! The smoke has cleared."

Diaval's head whipped in the direction of the Wall of Thorns; there was still plenty of black smoke filtering into the air, but not in as many places. Aurora looked simultaneously relieved and worried.

Maleficent sighed. _I shall not make them wait any longer, I suppose._

She emerged from the trees, her back straight and her mouth set in a thin, unwavering line. Her left arm screamed and screamed and screamed again as she lifted and dropped her staff, but she would not falter, not for a moment, not in front of the two people whom she cared for the most.

"_Maleficent_!" Aurora screamed, and then she was running at her, slogging through the knee-high water with frantic, jerky movements. Diaval stopped moving and remained as still as stone.

"No, child," Maleficent said brusquely, extending a hand. "I'm unclean. The smoke has covered me whole."

Aurora slowed and stood before her, eyes wide and hands shaking. She touched Maleficent's sooty cheek. "Your face…it's all black!"

She smiled faintly. "Yes, indeed. The smoke's doing, I assume."

Aurora inhaled deeply, shuddering. "Oh, I was so worried. I wasn't sure if – you'd gone away so suddenly, I – oh…" Her smile wavered.

"Hush, child," Maleficent said, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder, though it pained her immensely to do so. "There's no need for that."

"You look so…so unwell!" she burst out, and then she started to cry.

Maleficent closed her eyes briefly. _I cannot_, she thought, pained. _I cannot help her, I can barely move my arm, but she is upset and –_

Diaval was there when she opened her eyes, though he wasn't looking at her. "Aurora," he said softly, soothingly, "let us go back to the stream. We may sit beside it and watch for rainbow trout, what do you say?"

She sniffled and nodded, watery eyes lingering on Maleficent as the man beside her led her far away. Not once did Diaval acknowledge her. Maleficent felt all the more tired for this. Dumbly, she dragged herself across the moat and behind her throne, where a wide opening that led into a single, stone-and-wood carved room awaited, barely big enough for two people. Her precious few belongings were housed inside, but she did not require their presence now; instead, she headed over to a wall where a simple, unadorned mirror hung. She leaned against a jutting piece of stone and stared at herself through bleary eyes.

Pale face hidden beneath a black coating of ash and dust, electric green eyes drooping with fatigue, thin body shaking with agony… Maleficent sneered at her reflection, disgusted with what she saw. This was no queen, no powerful enemy to be feared. What she saw in the mirror was a pitiful woman succumbing to pain and weariness. With her last bit of energy, Maleficent tore the mirror from the wall and sent it crashing into thousands of glittering pieces on the stone floor.

Slumping, she closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment more of peace...

"Mistress."

"What?" she snapped, the word ripping from her throat even before she could open her eyes.

"It is well past nightfall."

Maleficent struggled to stand upright. Well past nightfall? But that was still an hour or two off…unless she'd fallen asleep instead of taking a single moment to rest like she'd planned. _Weak_, she berated herself. _You are so weak_.

Though she did feel well-rested now…

"I understand that," she replied briskly, tilting her chin up. Diaval had changed out of his wet clothes and now wore a plain black shirt and pants. His hair was slicked back, as usual, and his eyes watched her with a keen awareness she had never noticed before. "I needed a moment to myself."

He nodded but didn't answer.

Unnerved by his stare, she walked around her small inner room. "Aurora?" she inquired after a moment.

"I led her home and watched as she entered the fairies' care," he said. "She is safe."

Maleficent nodded, distracted. Was Aurora still upset, or had Diaval managed to calm her down? She did not like to see the little princess worked up, especially when she was at fault. It tore her up inside.

"You have my gratitude," she said stiffly, remembering the way he'd laughed and watched Aurora with warmth in his eyes. "Now leave me."

He said nothing, and she did not hear him move.

"Leave me, Diaval," she repeated, impatient. "I wish to be alone."

"You are alone far too often, my queen," he said softly.

"That is none of your concern," she retorted, taken aback by this observation.

"Of course it is," he said, forehead creasing. "You brood when you are left alone, and I fear that this brooding will…hurt you."

"You speak nonsense," she said, but she could see the truth in what he said. When she was alone with her thoughts, she tended to sink deeper and deeper into a gloomy depression, and each time it became harder for her to resurface. But Diaval had no way of knowing that.

"I am attuned to your moods, mistress," he continued, undeterred by her sour attitude. "I know when you're angry or offended…and when you're upset, too. You rarely feel that way, so when it does bloom within you, I am aware of its presence right away."

"What are you saying?" She was confused.

"I am saying," he continued softly, taking a step towards her, "that I know you're hurting right now."

"Hurting?" she repeated stupidly. "I can't – but – _hurt_ as in…do you mean to say I'm _miserable_? Because that is not the case at all, I warn you. I am angry with the king and his relentless follies, and I am concerned about this girl-child who must be protected at all times, and I am –"

"You are hurt," he interrupted, and now his eyes were fixed on her arms.

In her fury, she had lifted up her arms, ranting and cursing and all the while unaware of the pain, and the sleeves of her cloak had sunk back to reveal the blackened skin beneath.

"No," she said, and then a second time, "No."

But it was too late. He had seen.

"You are _hurt_," he said again, incredulous. He stepped forward once more, but this time she quickly backtracked, desperate to widen the distance between them.

"Stay where you are, Diaval," she warned, placing her arms by her sides. "I have no need of you. If I must ask you to leave again…"

"I will not leave you," he said stubbornly, crossing his arms defiantly. "Not while you are injured."

Maleficent sighed. "It is nothing –" she tried fruitlessly.

"No," Diaval interrupted, with a sharp shake of his head. "No, you won't be getting rid of me so quickly." He crossed the room then and gently grabbed hold of her arms, turning them palm-up. She hissed as the sleeves rubbed against her burned skin. "We must tend to these wounds, else they'll worsen."

She nodded, unwilling to meet his eyes. This was necessary, she knew that, and yet she felt ashamed and stupidly weak. This was not how she needed to look in front of her raven. She had to be strong and brave and utterly fearless…not broken-down and in pain. Yet she sensed there was nothing else to do but wipe the wounds clean and wait for them to heal.

"If you insist," she muttered resentfully, watching as his broad hands swallowed her small ones. Her heart beat just a little quicker.

"I do," he said softly, squeezing her hands, and when she looked up, he was smiling so very, very gently.

Against her will, she felt her own lips turn up in response.

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**Reviews are appreciated (and encouraged)! **


	8. Chapter 8: The King's Hellfire

**Hey, everyone, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! **

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**CHAPTER EIGHT: THE KING'S HELLFIRE **

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Her skin was leathery, and black, and ugly. The pain she'd felt so acutely at first had dwindled and died whilst Diaval attended to her. It seemed her nerve endings were so severely damaged that they ceased firing; she felt nothing now. But the absence of pain was worse than the constant agony she'd suffered earlier.

Deep down, she wondered if this was a sign that she was getting _accustomed_ to pain.

_Irrational_, she thought, angry with herself. _Unreasonable, stupid, senseless. I know pain, and pain knows me. Not experiencing any feeling is very odd, yes, but that doesn't mean I've become _accustomed_ to pain. _That was ridiculous.

Yet she wondered…

"How are the wounds faring today, my queen?" Diaval strode across the gloomy moat with practiced ease, his strides purposeful and his eyes direct. He bent down on one knee before her and tenderly grasped her hands in his.

Maleficent sighed, acting the part of the annoyed patient. "How am I to be sure, Diaval? I am no healer."

"Nor I am," he retorted, examining the burns, "but the purpose of healing salves and other ointments is common knowledge."

"Is it?" she asked mildly, staring down at the top of his head. "Strange that I don't seem to be privy to this knowledge you speak of."

"Strange indeed," he muttered, and released her hands after an extra second or two. Maleficent thought nothing of it; instead, her mind dredged up images of Diaval and Aurora and their laughing faces, so startlingly bright against the dankness of the Moors.

"What is Aurora up to today?" she asked distractedly, searching for her staff.

"She's working on her flower garden, mistress, just as she said she would," he responded, and offered her the magnificent mahogany staff.

She nodded her thanks and carefully stepped over the moat by way of a tattered wooden bridge. "You should keep her company," she said off-handedly, observing the way the flowers drooped and the trees swayed with a soft breeze. "I told her she must remain far from the Wall, yet I have my doubts. She's a curious one, and I can already see her wandering closer than she ought."

Diaval's lips twisted; whether he meant to smile or grimace, she was not sure. "Actually, my queen, I thought I'd stay with you today."

She raised a single eyebrow and turned around to face him. "Did you? I'm glad you _thought_ so, Diaval, but _thinking_ does not always get you where you wish to go. _I_ say that you must remain close to Aurora until she has moved on from the Wall and all it entails. Now go."

He did not move.

She sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Must you disobey me at every turn?"

"It's not my intention to cause you stress, but I would really rather stay by your side, my queen." Diaval looked quite determined, and she knew his stubbornness was not to be trifled with.

"You are _very_ annoying," she said after a pause, rolling her eyes. She took off, brushing aside anything that dared block her path. Not once did she glance behind her; Diaval would keep pace with her soon enough.

The Wall of Thorns loomed dark and damaged up ahead, and Maleficent's mouth twisted as she examined it. The closer she got, the worse the Wall looked. The vines were charred, and all the lesser components that made up the Wall had been reduced to ash in most places. A distasteful burning smell filled the air; it was still so acrid that her eyes welled up.

"Horrifying," she muttered to herself, plucking a charred twig that hung from the Wall. It turned to ash in her hands.

"I agree," her raven said, eyebrows furrowed.

"I do not speak of the Wall. It's the king's new concoction, called the White Inferno by his foot soldiers. What a detestable weapon."

"What makes it different from other fires?" he inquired, walking slowly up and down the length of the Wall.

"Everything. It is white, with a brilliant purple tip. The flames burn hotter and brighter than any other type of fire I've ever seen. It explodes upon impact, sending out heat waves thousands of degrees above normal. I know little else." Her arms throbbed as she remembered the unbearable heat that bore down on her while she tried to defend her home.

Diaval came up beside her. "You were very brave, my queen, I hope you know that."

"Brave?" This prompted a raised eyebrow, and her smile was sarcastic. "There was nothing _brave_ about what I did. I only acted as I saw necessary."

"You protected the princess."

"It was necessary," she repeated, striding along the Wall, patching up the burned areas as best she could. Her green magic swirled from her fingertips.

Suddenly there was a hand on her arm. Upper arm, of course, where the fire hadn't managed to reach. "You mistake my meaning. You protected the princess _at your own peril_."

Maleficent tried to look unaffected, but Diaval's close proximity, so unexpected, shook her. "There was nothing to fear. I am the queen, and these weapons don't frighten me."

Diaval sighed. "You may not be human, Maleficent, but you are still as vulnerable as one, especially when faced with a weapon that liquefies your skin upon contact. You protected the princess by throwing yourself in front of the danger. That is heroic."

"So now you speak to me of heroes?" She scoffed and moved away so that his hand hung in the air, no longer touching her arm. "The comparison there is weak, I warn you."

"So you'd rather think of yourself as some evil creature rather than a hero?" If she hadn't known any better, Maleficent might think that her pet was growing _angry_ with her.

"Well, I _am_ the Mistress of Evil, or haven't you heard?" The rumors from the king's homeland had reached her ears sure enough; she knew what the commonfolk called her behind her back. It _was_ a fitting name, though, she had to admit. In fact, she quite liked the title. _Mistress of Evil._ It had a certain ring to it.

"They don't know you truly," Diaval insisted.

Maleficent paused then, the green magic shimmering around her hand. "And you do?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I have spent years upon years by your side, and I've become familiar with everything you do."

"_Everything_? Isn't that a bit presumptuous? Maybe it is that I _allow_ you to know only what I wish you to know."

That made Diaval blink. _Has this not occurred to him?_ she wondered, puzzled. _He's my pet, yes, but he's also my servant. I can't have him knowing _all_ my secrets._

"Whether I know you intimately or not, my queen, I feel that "Mistress of Evil" is ill-suiting."

_Intimately_. Maleficent hated that word and all it entailed. She was not one for sentimentality or romantic fantasy. Those things were best left to the likes of naïve little girls who only saw joy in the world. Girls like Aurora who had bright eyes and an even brighter future.

Maleficent sighed and willed her magic away. The Wall would remain intact…at least for a little while longer. "I don't wish to quarrel with you, Diaval. Heroes and nicknames aside, I protected Aurora because she is a princess. She is important to the human realm, and maybe one day to the Moors as well. She is worthy of protection, whereas I am…shall I say, _expendable_."

By the look of it, Diaval vehemently disagreed. But for her sake, he merely shook his head. "You may be many dark and dangerous things, but expendable you are not."

As they continued on in silence, heading back towards her throne, Maleficent's lips twisted up in a mockery of a smile. "Are you still so glad you decided to accompany me today? I'm sure Aurora picked pretty flowers and sang wonderful melodies…"

Surprising her, Diaval snorted. "I am not especially interested in these activities, my queen. I'm sure you know that."

He was wrong. "Really? You seemed quite taken with her flower idea, and her voice _is_ pleasing to the ears."

"Not as pleasing as your company," Diaval said with a wicked grin.

She rolled her eyes, though a light dusting of color touched her pale cheeks. "How cheeky of you."

The blush both angered and surprised her; Maleficent wasn't used to being taken unaware by such comments. Not because she was always ready to respond to them, but because no one dared to speak to her in such a way. In fact, she was so caught up in Diaval's sudden boldness that she nearly dropped straight into a patch of quicksand. At the very last second, Diaval's hand shot out and grabbed hold of her own, yanking her safely to the side.

"Maleficent," he breathed, eyes steady. "Are you alright?"

She blinked and swallowed, alarmed by her blatant carelessness. "Yes, I…why, I'm fine. T-thank you, Diaval," she stuttered, staring with shock into his deep black eyes. There was concern there, and something else as well… Maleficent stepped away, unwilling to dwell on just what that emotion might be.

Diaval, however, refused to release her hand. "You seem a bit unsteady on your feet, my queen. Might I suggest you keep hold of me…to maintain your balance, of course," he added when he saw she was going to argue.

"Of course," she said distractedly, still in a state of shock. His hand was clenched tightly around hers, and the way he'd looked at her, with such alarm and…fear?...in his eyes. She wasn't exactly sure what to do. Feeling flustered, she gestured for him to continue on.

They broke through a copse of weathered trees, hand-in-hand, to find Aurora waiting by her throne. At the sight of them, the little princess jumped to her feet, grinning. When her eyes alighted on their joined hands, however, she skidded to a stop – a comical sight, under other circumstances – and stared at Maleficent curiously.

"Is everything all right, Godmother?"

"Perfectly," she responded, some of her wits finally returning (it was about time). She began to pull her hand away, not with outright aggressiveness but with firm intent, and was yet again taken aback when Diaval tightened his hold.

"You're well again, my lady?"

"Quite," she said shortly, her mind fixing on his inclusion of the strange title. _My lady_, she thought. _He's never called me that before. And lately he's been using my natural name…did I ever give him leave to do so?_ She didn't believe she had.

"I've been wondering where you went," Aurora continued, unaware that anything was wrong. "Can we go swimming again today? It's so humid out, my dress is sticking to my skin!" She made a face at that.

"Yes, yes," Maleficent said, waving a hand. "Diaval, I would thank you to keep Aurora company."

"You're not going to join us?" Aurora frowned, her big blue eyes widening.

A smile flickered over her lips. "I'm afraid not, child. I have much and more to consider."

She sighed. "If you say so."

The princess leaped over the moat and skipped to the river, her dress flapping about her legs and her hands soaring by her side. Maleficent wondered briefly what it would be like – what it would _feel_ like – to possess such an untroubled disposition. She turned away and saw Diaval still standing a few feet away, watching her with eyes that betrayed not a single thought.

Maleficent raised a single eyebrow, and Diaval turned away, though not without an obvious clenching of his jaw.

* * *

_White Inferno._

_ The name whispers along the slick castle walls, rebounding off the mountainous pillars and slithering over cobbled rooftops and under heavy wooden doors. The name passes from mouth to mouth, filling the air with dread and foreboding. The name instills fear and loathing, but also loyalty and respect. No man dares turn his back on it, else it sneak up behind him and melt the flesh from his bones. _

_ White Inferno._

_ The king's last resort. It will save us all, the commonfolk say. It will burn our kingdom and all the rest, others argue. Soldiers shy from its unnatural glare, and the queen herself will not hear its name spoken in her presence. Some say that the fire was tossed up from hell itself. Some say that it burns its victims according to the severity of their sins. The skin of men melt for hours while women are burnt to smoky ashes. Children are tortured for days, their innocence unable to protect them from the devil's fire._

_ White Inferno. _

_ "I mean to use it soon," the king whispers. "It has been far too long. I should have vanquished her long ago."_

_ "Her?" his captains ask. "Do we not speak of the Moors, sire?" _

_ The king glances at them disdainfully before casting his gaze back on the enormous glass box sitting in the center of his gloomy solar. "Of course we speak of the Moors. But she is queen there, she embodies the realm, don't you see?"_

_ The men exchange fearful glances._

_ "We must burn her precious land to dust. Only then can we burn _her_."_

_ "You speak of Maleficent, the fairy queen?"_

_ "DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME IN MY CASTLE!" the king roars, whirling on them with malevolence in his words and madness in his eyes. _

_ The captains wait in silence, struck immobile by fear._

_ The king composes himself after many silent minutes. "As I said, we destroy her homeland, we destroy her. Then I may rest. The kingdom may rest," he corrects, sensing the soldiers' confusion._

_ "As you say, sire," the captains respond, the hands holding their iron spears trembling._

_ "I will spill my White Inferno from the heavens, and all who reside within the Moors, that evil wasteland, shall perish. Her bones will lie amidst the ashes of her demon creatures forevermore." The king sighs, examining the glass box with feverish intensity. "Soon," he says softly, viciously. "Soon I will unleash my fire."_

_ The box shuddered violently, shaking and twisting from side to side as the fearsome black wings within beat and beat and beat, forever striving for a freedom waiting just beyond the glass walls._

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_Soon_.

The word thundered in her mind, shoving aside all other thoughts, emotions, actions. Maleficent flew to her feet so swiftly she bumped her head against the ceiling of her tree-cave. The word continued to echo as she whirled around, the image of Stefan and his men flickering again and again every time she blinked.

_I will spill my White Inferno from the heavens_.

Maleficent's heart was thudding so hard it was almost a physical discomfort. She snatched at her cloak, throwing it around her shoulders as she scrambled to the opening of the cave. Her arms were burning, but the pain was nowhere near powerful enough to overcome the terror in her mind.

_Soon_.

King Stefan was coming. In a month, a week, a day, she could not be sure. But she could taste his impatience, his incredible need for vengeance; it was so filled with contempt that she felt dizzy. Stumbling past her throne, she flew over the bridge and through the Tangible Forest. The Moors was silent, all the creatures at rest, even her pet. They slept peacefully, unaware of the horrors about to befall them all.

_I will spill my White Inferno from the heavens._

Gasping, Maleficent ground to a halt on a tall hill overlooking the meadowlands. On the far side, she could just barely make out the fairies' ramshackle house, wherein Aurora slept undisturbed in her plush featherbed. The girl was safe…for tonight. Tomorrow, Maleficent knew, the trees and grass and woodland creatures might be afire, burning under the intensity of the king's hellfire.

She must do something. There was no longer a choice for her to make. _Act_, she told herself. _Act or die. He is coming for us all._

_Soon._

_ Soon._

_ Soon. _


	9. Chapter 9: Everything Unspoken

**Hello again! I hope y'all will excuse the shortness of this chapter; I felt like it was a good place to stop when I got to the end. Let me know what you think, and enjoy :))**

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A soft breeze scented with the mix of a thousand flowers lifted her cloak and fanned it out across the green grass, but she did not move. Her back ached and her legs were stiff and her arms throbbed in time with her heartbeat, but she did not move. The blue sky threatened rain, and even when thunder boomed in the distance, she did not move.

Not even when her name, carried on a breeze heavy with rain, reached her ears. It began as a shout, but distance forced it into little more than a faint murmur. She knew the voice as well as she knew her own. Maleficent shut her eyes and breathed deeply, carefully erecting a mask that would hide all that she knew.

"Diaval," she said mildly, after a few minutes had passed. "What is it?"

A minute later he reached her and, without being asked, plopped down in the grass, flattening a small grouping of dandelions. "How could you hear me from so far away?"

"Sound carries," she said simply.

Five full minutes ticked by before he said in a tight voice, "I was worried. When I woke, you were already gone, and I could not find you for some time."

_I will spill my White Inferno from the heavens, and all who reside within the Moors…_ There was an unspoken question there, she knew, but Maleficent would wait until he asked it outright. For some reason, the events of last night had filled her with an unending patience.

Sure enough: "Why wouldn't you answer my call? I kept at it for over an hour."

_Soon._

"No need to sound so huffy, my pet," she replied vaguely, and reached out a hand to stroke his hair.

To her complete and utter shock, he swatted it away and rocketed to his feet. "I _despise_ that nickname, Maleficent, and you know that perfectly well. I am not some simple creature to be soothed with a pat on the head or a rub on the back."

_He is so very angry_, Maleficent thought, blinking up at him.

_I will spill my White Inferno from the heavens, and all who reside within the Moors, that evil wasteland…_

"I am not sure whether you are aware of this or not, but I am a man grown. I am not a child or an imbecile, and yet you treat me like one or the other, depending on your mood. I do not ask for much –"

Maleficent was so terribly dazed and confused that, as she climbed laboriously to her feet, she allowed a disdainful laugh to escape her lips. "Oh, Diaval, you do not have _leave_ to ask me for anything. You are my serv-"

"Your _servant_, yes, you have need to remind me every hour of every day," he snapped, jaw tightly clenched. "Am I nothing else to you but a slave? Sometimes I think you see me as a burden as well."

"That is _not_ true, Diaval. Where are you getting these preposterous ideas? I don't –"

"Stop," he demanded, throwing up his hands. "The more you talk, the more I don't want to hear what you have to say. I have been so faithful to you, and I have always, _always_ done as you've asked, yet –"

She tried again to explain, not understanding what he wanted to hear. "I appreciate your unfailing loyalty, Diaval, but –"

"I scout the forests ensuring all is well," he continued, as if he couldn't hear her, "I watch over the Wall and the enemies that wait beyond, I cater to even your most insignificant needs, and I entertain the little princess for hours and hours and hours, making sure she's happy and safe and unaware of the danger she's in –"

This time _she_ interrupted. "I don't doubt any of these things, but you make it sound as if taking care of Aurora is an unwelcome task. She is more your age than mine, Diaval, and I thought you enjoyed the time you spent with her."

"Of course I do, she's a wonderful child, full of life and love and innocence, but that's not…she isn't…"

"_What_?" Maleficent snapped, her patience at an end. Her nerves were shot and her body was fatigued and her mind was warped with thoughts of death and destruction and fire… "For heaven's sake, spit it out, Diaval."

_Soon_.

"I am here _for you_," he shouted, eyes blazing. He stepped towards her, his body poised and dangerous. "Do you not understand? I wish to be by your side, _always_, and I thought you were aware of that, at least to some extent, yet you continue to banish me to the streams and the meadowlands to play nanny for the princess."

Maleficent was thoroughly confused. "But I thought you loved the princess."

"Love?"

Exasperated, she said slowly, "_Yes_, Diaval. You and Aurora are so very similar, and so very _lonely_, I assumed you had much in common… You see, I pushed the two of you together so that you'd be able to talk and play and do…whatever else…whilst out of my sight."

"You think I love Aurora." He spoke softly, and Maleficent had to strain to hear over the pounding in her head.

_I will spill my White Inferno from the heavens…_

"Yes," she said, defeated, and then again, "Yes."

_…and all who reside within the Moors… _

Diaval stared at her with those dark, unblinking eyes…and began to smile. Only slightly, so that it looked like nothing more than a thoughtless twitch of the lips, but she saw it instantly.

_…that evil wasteland…_

"It is true," she continued wearily. "I know it to be. I have seen it."

_ …shall perish._

"You fool," Diaval whispered, and then he was stepping towards her, lifting his hands to her face, drinking her in with his beautifully dark eyes, bending his head down so that their lips may brush…and brush again…and brush a third time…

He pressed a kiss to her mouth, and everything unspoken became known.

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**Questions, comments, reviews? I'm running a little behind on the next few chapters because of school and work, but I'm hoping that I'll have next week's up on time as usual...if not I should only be a day or two late in updating. **


	10. Chapter 10: One Step Ahead

**Hello! Sorry for being three days late; like I said before, I'm running a bit behind! But I hope y'all enjoy this chapter anyway! Now things are going to start getting very interesting, and the storyline will stray pretty far from the real one. Have fun!**

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**CHAPTER TEN: ONE STEP AHEAD**

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Diaval tasted like cinnamon and cloves. A strange combination, to be sure, but a welcome one nonetheless.

His hands were clutching her upper arms so that she was unable to move away. She could not breathe either – no, no, that wasn't right: she was _afraid_ to breathe for fear of missing this moment. Up until the instant their lips brushed, Maleficent had no true knowledge of his feelings for her or her feelings for him. But now, as his mouth moved against hers with a hardness contradictory to his nature, she no longer had any doubts about the relationship between them.

_Why didn't I see this?_ she asked herself, struck by her complete ignorance. _Did I choose to turn a blind eye to the way he acts around me, and did I decide to totally disregard the way I feel whenever he's near? _Her willful blindness was disconcerting.

Maleficent slowly placed her hands on his chest, to both distance herself and make room for her wounded arms; if Diaval accidentally touched her there, she might scream. Usually she could control the urge to succumb to the pain, but with Diaval touching her, there was no telling what she could or couldn't do. That was how delicate her state of mind was; she felt vulnerable and dazed, and that combination was a frightening one.

Diaval reacted by sliding his hands down her sides and around her waist, drawing her close against his heated body. She could feel his tensed muscles beneath a tattered onyx jacket that brushed the backs of his knees and which covered another silk shirt with a V-shaped neckline. He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, taking her by surprise. It was almost as if he wanted to drink her in and swallow her whole. Maleficent found the notion terrifying.

She murmured his name against his lips, pulling back just enough to fill her lungs with fresh air. Half-pleading, she shook her head, unable to give voice to her fears. _I cannot allow him to control me,_ she thought desperately as he ignored her attempt at resistance and pressed his lips to her throat. _He'll hurt me in the end. They always do_.

Struggling to move out of reach, Maleficent yanked herself back, knowing he would let her go, else he might rub against her burns. "Release me," she said, her voice unsteady.

"No, my queen. I couldn't even if I wanted to, I'm afraid. Stay," he commanded, pushing her gently up against a tree. One hand snaked around to cup the back of her neck whilst the other clutched at the fabric of her cloak, bunching it up inside a tight fist. He pressed their mouths together, and she had to catch her breath at the pure force of it. _He is desperate for me_, she realized, her head spinning. _How long has this been going on?_

Heat snaked up her arms and coiled around her chest, constricting her tensed body. She had never felt quite so very, very warm; for the longest time, her heart and mind had been chilled with contempt and vengeance. Never had she experienced such a pure glow of warmth; it eradicated everything that lie dormant and cold within her.

Diaval's lips were insistent; they whispered across her cheeks, down her throat and then back up, claiming her own swollen lips with vehement intent. Moaning, he slid his hands up her spine, beneath her clothing, and the skin-on-skin contact made Maleficent gasp.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

Diaval's lips twitched. "You're surprised."

"Very," she managed, gazing at his mouth. _So tempting_, she thought. _I must control the urge to smother him with my feelings. _"You're playing with fire," she added, daring him to deny it.

He tilted his head, questioning. "You are dangerous, my queen, but not to me."

_And that is where you're wrong_, she thought darkly. _I am dangerous to you most of all_. Aloud, she said, "How long?"

"For a while," he replied vaguely, knowing what she asked without any clarification. "Over the years I've seen every aspect of you – from your personality, your moods, your amusements – and I have grown closer to you than any other living being in this world."

Her heart fluttered, and she clapped a hand to her chest as if she could stifle it. "Have I been so blind?"

Diaval pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. "You've had a lot on your plate, Maleficent. I don't resent you for that."

She swallowed and gazed into his dark eyes. "I – I'm not sure…what to make of this," she said at last. Even this confession hurt; she hated that she was unsure, confused, bewildered even.

"We need not make any moves – at least, not until you're comfortable." A hint of doubt crept into Diaval's eyes, and his brows furrowed. "You…do feel the same as I…yes?"

Now it was Maleficent's turn to smile, although she did so softly, so as not to offend. Male egos were, after all, quite fragile. "Of course, Diaval. I would never have…responded in such a way," and here her cheeks flushed pink, "if I did not reciprocate your feelings."

"Good to know," he said, touching a gentle finger to her cheek.

Maleficent was momentarily distracted by a flash of lightning off to the east. She saw that the clouds had grown as dark as granite, and this worried her. A heavy weight settled in her chest; the state of the sky was an ominous sign. Even now, with Diaval by her side and all their feelings finally exposed, she knew that war was just around the bend.

"Maleficent?" Diaval placed a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. The darkness of his eyes were highlighted with concern. "I fear you have gone someplace far away where I cannot reach."

She smiled grimly. "Your fears are not too far off the mark. There is a war coming, Diaval. Stefan has seen to that."

He grimaced. "There have been whispers, my queen. The creatures fear the White Inferno." He paused, shifting his stance. "And I fear for you."

"No need," she said immediately, brushing this off, though she knew it would annoy him. "I can handle myself, as you well know."

Diaval glanced to the side, then, sighing (disappointedly?), gestured to a dense grove of trees. "Shall we sit? We have much to talk about."

"Indeed," she whispered, her eyes lingering on the eastern sky.

They did not talk or even so much as glance towards each other as they crossed a shallow stream and carefully sat on the dewy ground. Maleficent swept aside a muddy patch of ground before lowering herself, and she clutched her cloak tightly about her. There was an eerie chill to the air – as if some malicious entity traveled on the wind, intent on ripping through clothes and burrowing into goose-bumped skin. Diaval sat tensely by her side, his leg just a hairs-breadth away.

"I feel a change in you," he said hesitantly, fingers drumming on his knees.

She sighed. "All I can think of is King Stefan and this war he's intent on starting. No," she said suddenly, shaking her head, "what am I saying? This war has already started. The land reeks of destruction, and I fear that there is more, much more, to come."

Diaval hunched his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair, as she had done not long before. A wave of heat coursed through Maleficent's body, and she forced it back with some effort. "His White Inferno is only the beginning, Diaval."

"Yes," he said with a strained sigh. "He's going to make his move soon."

"Very soon, possibly in a matter of days," she lied, thinking, _It will be hours, minutes even. I have no way of knowing, and I fear my uncertainty most of all. _A second or two later, she added angrily, _I have been doing far too much fearing lately. It is a wearisome thing. _

"We have to be ready," Diaval said with just a tinge of urgency. He dare not outright provoke her by insinuating that she was not ready for war…but still, with so much on her mind, she could hardly be offended when he hinted at it…

"And we will be. Preparations are in the making. I've restructured the Wall of Thorns, made it stronger, tougher, more solid. It is nearly impenetrable. Nearly," she said again, and her jaw ticked.

"What of Aurora?" he asked softly.

Maleficent paused, a lump in her throat. "The princess will remain with her fairies. I see no reason to involve her in this. I haven't told her a thing about what's happening, though surely she must suspect. After all, she was almost burned alive while the king's soldiers tested their abominable fire weapon."

"But you saved her, Maleficent. You knew what was going on within seconds, and you acted. You're always one step ahead, and that is why you'll win this war." Diaval touched her arm lightly.

_You, you, you_, she thought, her chest tightening. _Yes, it is all up to me to save the Moors, an entire realm! The fate of our land rests on my shoulders, but I fear this particular burden may be too much for me. _ Of course, she dared not voice these despairing thoughts aloud. If she spoke of her doubt, it would spread like wildfire – _no, like White Inferno_ – through the Moors until every creature had heard. Then they would quickly be stark-raving mad with terror, and Maleficent could not have that. Her creatures, her fellow fairies and forest giants and water nymphs, had to believe in her and trust that she would make the right decisions and protect them all.

"You will handle it, my queen," Diaval said, the side of his mouth lifting in an attempt at a reassuring smile. "As you always do."

Maleficent breathed in slowly. "I will," she said, catching his eyes. "I will."

Diaval touched her face again, and Maleficent closed her eyes, relishing the contact. He was so warm, so inviting. To leave him, to lose him…she could not bear it. Not when they were finally getting to know each other so well.

Once more, Diaval touched his lips to hers, his tongue probing and circling the inside of her mouth. He sighed contentedly, and Maleficent kissed him back – hard. With bruising force, she cemented their lips and arms and legs together, wanting to dissolve into him, to leave this cruel world and its cruel beings behind, and to live in a solitary state with her pretty raven by her side. She wanted to become one with him, wanted it _so much_…

But when they fell asleep together on the top of a grassy hill overlooking the meadowlands, black-clad arms and legs merely entangled instead of melded, she thought it would have to do.

* * *

She woke before sunrise.

It was the earliest part of the morning, an hour or two from dawn. The sky was a combination of burnt brown and light gray, although those granite-colored clouds still peppered the sky. _The storm_, she thought. _It is coming, slowly but surely_.

Despite there being a brisk wind that blew constantly not half a day before, the world around her now was as still and dead as rock. Nothing moved – not the creatures nor nature – and a faint stench of decaying leaves drifted in the air, overpowering any other smell that may have been trying to permeate the landscape. Maleficent felt as if she had somehow found herself adrift in a motionless world; everything was waiting for her to make the first move.

Clasping together the brass button under her chin, which ensured her cloak would remain fixed around her shoulders, Maleficent took a step in the direction of the Wall of Thorns…and then another step…and then another. With her magnificently carved staff in hand, she beat a steady rhythm past the swamp that protected her throne, around the quietly trickling body of water known as Symphony Stream, and through the dark and silent Tangible Forest. She reached the perimeter of her Wall of Thorns without issue.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she allowed herself to envision, just for a moment, Diaval awakening on the hillside and finding the spot beside him empty, the grass which had been flattened by her body already sprung back into place. He would grope about for a moment, floundering, wondering where she could've gone, and then, when she failed to appear, he would start to worry. Worry would soon turn to fear, and fear to revelation – she had left him. Not just him, but the Moors too.

Raising her heavily burned and bandaged arms, Maleficent closed her eyes and thought, _It is for the best, my dear Diaval. Despite what you may think, I am not fleeing. No, in fact, I am running towards the danger, directly in the path of death, and I will say, "Here! Here I am. Come and fight me. I have come to end this." And King Stefan will appear in iron armor, surrounded by iron-clad soldiers wielding iron-tipped spears and axes and stakes, and I will raise my wooden staff with wounded arms, and we will fight, and we will end it._

The vines and branches and brambles and everything else that composed the densely packed Wall of Thorns peeled away. A straight path which stretched inches from Maleficent's feet all the way to the other side where there was trampled dirt appeared. Without thinking of Diaval or her little princess, she strode through, her cloak fanning out behind her in a black wave. She reached the other side in several brisk strides, turned back around, and raised her hands again.

She closed the Wall behind her, sealing apart the two realms once more. A mingled sense of sadness, despair, and dread tightened her chest, but she raised her chin and swiveled back to face the imposing human kingdom. The war would start, all right, but on her terms, in her time. This was a despicable task indeed, but Maleficent was the Queen of the Moors.

And a queen always protected her people.


	11. Chapter 11: This Means War

**Hooray! I managed to get this chapter up in time, and it's my longest one yet (at least by my standards). Hope you enjoy~~**

* * *

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: THIS MEANS WAR**

* * *

Diaval woke with a start.

At once he knew that something was amiss. There was an emptiness within him that hadn't been there when he fell asleep. He ached all over; his joints were stiff and his mind was a bit hazy, as if he'd just taken a spill and cracked his head against a jutting piece of rock. Groaning, he rolled to his side and pushed himself, with considerable effort, to a sitting position. He clutched his head in his hands.

"Maleficent," he said huskily, and reached out an absent hand, groping.

His hand landed on grass and dirt and nothing more.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he kept patting, searching for her warm body. He turned and blinked, staring at the ground in all its unmaintained glory. For a moment, Diaval was absolutely befuddled. Why was the spot beside him empty? Where was his queen? Where was Maleficent?

"Maleficent?" he said again, questioning.

No answer. This perplexed him, though he was beginning to feel something else too. The first hint of dread began welling up within him, making him feel inexplicably nauseous. _Something is amiss_, he thought again. But this time, he knew what it was.

Scrambling to his feet, Diaval hastily stretched out his limbs and called quietly for his queen. When he received no spoken response, he resorted to using the connection they'd developed while spending so many years together. He reached out with his mind, searching for her. He met empty air. Now Diaval's eyebrows creased, and a shudder ran through him.

_Not good_, he thought suddenly. _Not good at all._

He couldn't quite explain _why_ he felt that Maleficent's absence was a bad thing, but he'd gotten used to listening to his intuitive feelings. They'd started to pop up around the time he met Maleficent, and they usually pertained to her activities and whereabouts. Needless to say, his mind-connection and almost-psychic abilities were attuned to Maleficent's presence.

Feeling panicky, Diaval scrambled down the hillside and loped across the meadowlands. It was a few miles to Aurora's house, and he unfortunately had no way of turning himself into a raven to make the journey quicker, but he didn't mind the distance; he was starting to think that Maleficent's disappearance was a dire circumstance, and that fear overrode everything else. He needed the princess by his side; she usually managed to calm him down.

He flew to the wooden front door, almost tripping over his own two feet in his haste to reach her. He drew back his hand to pound on the door like a crazed man, then remembered that there were other inhabitants who lived alongside the princess. What if the three fairies who were supposed to watch over Aurora weren't awake yet? It was quite early, after all. The sky was light in places, glimpses of muddled yellow sunlight shining down in slanting rays, but mostly there were ominous storm clouds filled with rainwater which eclipsed the sky.

Diaval, thinking quickly, skirted around the side of the large brick house that was covered with snake-like vines and slipped into view of Aurora's bedroom by way of a circular window. He glimpsed her working, somewhat frantically, with some small object over by her writing desk.

He tapped his fingernail lightly on the window, not wanting to startle her.

Yet Aurora whirled around, the white ribbon in her hand fluttering to the ground as she grabbed at her chest. "Oh, Diaval!" she said breathlessly. "You scared me!"

He gave her a forced smile. "My apologies, Aurora. There is…you see…I'm…a matter of urgency," he said unintelligibly.

But Aurora had not heard. She'd picked up her white ribbon and now hastily wound it into her hair, smiling widely all the while. She practically skipped to the window, hands outstretched. "You're just in time! I'm so glad you could make it!" She paused, head cocked, scanning the meadowland behind him. "But where's my godmother? Is she going to surprise me?" Aurora clapped her hands. "I do so _love_ surprises!"

Diaval, blinking confusedly at her excited state, opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything.

Aurora, sensing his bafflement, slapped his arm playfully. "Oh, come off it. You've come to celebrate!" But when his perplexed expression persisted, she said slowly, "You've…you've come to celebrate my birthday…haven't you?"

"Birthday?" Diaval said, mystified. "Whose?"

A single, slightly nervous laugh burst from Aurora's throat. "Why, mine of course! Didn't I just say so?"  
"Your birthday…today?" Understanding was beginning to penetrate the thick haze surrounding his brain, and as he became more aware of her words, he decided that he wasn't at all sure he _wanted_ to understand.

"_Yes_," the princess said, exasperated. "It's my sixteenth name day!"

Diaval felt faint. All at once, everything began to make sense: the conversation he'd had with Maleficent concerning the approaching war with King Stefan, the unexplainable feelings of urgency and restlessness he'd felt emanating from Maleficent the previous night…it all tied together. _Days_, he remembered her saying, with such characteristic confidence. _Very soon, possibly in a matter of days_. When all along, she'd really meant, _Now_.

Today was the day of the curse.

Aurora's brow scrunched. "What was that?"

Only then did Diaval realize that he'd spoken aloud. He swallowed back the dryness in his throat and said, "Today is the day of the curse. Your sixteenth name day. That's when the curse will be enacted."

"Curse?" Aurora said, her head jerking back. "I don't understand…is this some new game you've invented?"

"Maleficent never told you," he said slowly. _Oh_, he thought then. _Oh, no_. He had assumed from the very beginning that she knew. _Thank the heavens I never mentioned it in her presence._ "N-never mind, Aurora. We'll get to that later. What's important is that Maleficent has fled."

She gasped, the hand that clutched at her chest now flying over her gaping mouth. "Fled? What do you mean, _fled_? Where has she gone?"

"To the King's castle," he said grimly, pushing the glass window aside. "I must go after her at once. She's in terrible danger. I don't know what she was thinking, taking this on herself –"

"She's a queen," Aurora interrupted, and when Diaval turned to look at her, she was standing regally, hands by her sides, chin jutted forward. "Queens always look out for their kingdoms. Or should I say _queendoms_." And here she giggled.

As frantic as Diaval was at this moment, what she said gave him pause. "Wait. How do you know Maleficent is a queen?"

Aurora shrugged. "It's quite clear. She's very sure of herself, and all the creatures within the Moors, the tree warriors especially, seem to obey her every word. So I figured out that…well, I have a queen for a godmother. How extraordinary…don't you agree?" She seemed very pleased by this.

Diaval felt a small smile tug at his lips, but once he remembered where Maleficent was and what she planned on doing, the smile dropped away immediately. "You mustn't leave the house," he told the princess firmly. "To do so would be extremely unwise. You have to wait until I return with the queen –"

Aurora held up a hand. "You're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?" She laughed. "Why, I'm going with you, of course! You can't possibly think to leave me here."

Diaval scoffed, though he was glancing off in the direction of the human kingdom. Time was of the essence, and he was wasting precious seconds arguing. "It is too dangerous," he said distractedly, thinking that if he left now, he could make it into the castle by mid-morning, maybe early-afternoon at the latest.

"I'm coming with you," she said again, lips pressed tightly together.

"You can't come anywhere near the castle!" he said loudly, nearly pleading with her now. He knew this was an imprudent thing to say in light of her being unaware of the curse, but he was desperate to find Maleficent.

"But you can't leave me here! Please, Diaval, I can't stay here alone, especially not if Maleficent's in trouble. I _won't_ stay," she added defiantly, crossing her arms. "You can't make me."

Too frazzled to think clearly, Diaval finally nodded his head and impatiently waved for her to climb out the window. The princess lost her pouty attitude at once and hurried to clamber through the tiny porthole. Diaval helped her down to the ground, rushing her a bit more than was probably necessary, and then took off across the meadowlands, his eyes set on something in the distance.

"Where are we going?" Aurora asked breathlessly, practically running so that she could maintain Diaval's swift pace.

He kept his eyes planted firmly on the distant horizon. "To the Wall of Thorns."

Aurora blinked and started to slow down. "But…but however will we get past it?"

Diaval's lips twisted into a mocking smile as he flicked a glance over his left shoulder. Several giant, monstrous beings that resembled trees, which carried weapons like sharpened tree branches, shifted and rumbled through the Tangible Forest.

"I have an idea."

* * *

The castle's southernmost gate was well-guarded, but that proved to be no trouble for Maleficent. She swept through the throng of soldiers as easily as if they were nothing more than troublesome branches that blocked her way. Their screams echoed once, collectively, off the enormous parapets of the castle before her green energy smothered them. She could not afford to be heard approaching before she reached the king. He needed to be taken by surprise, if nothing else. He would surely be well-armed and well-coached in the way of fighting, and he would doubtless be able to react quickly, but to surprise him…that was the ticket.

Maleficent glided through the side entrance with nary a sound; her cloak whispered across the intricately detailed tiles, and the walls, covered with ancient tapestries and gilded armor worn by previous great knights, were built so high that she could barely make out the ceiling beyond the slow-shifting gloom. She walked with practiced steps, not daring to rush herself needlessly; there would be plenty of time for haste in the coming hours.

Turning a corner, Maleficent found herself quite suddenly in the middle of the main hall. She could hear the ripple of voices fast approaching, and before she could locate the direction in which they were coming, she saw three or four shadows flicker up onto the brick walls, less than fifty feet away.

Raising her staff in one hand and outstretching the palm of her other hand, Maleficent closed her eyes, muttered some unintelligible words, and then opened them again as wide as they could go. Her green energy burst from her hands and swiftly floated down the length of her body, covering her staff as well. She was just lowering her arms when the soldiers came into view.

"Aye, and he says they's trouble on the western front as well, from sum undisclosed l'cation –" The tallest of the three broke off and stopped, blinking. He sucked in a big breath and glanced about suspiciously.

"Something wrong, Darren?" This was from a dark-skinned man with a white scar running down the left side of his face.

Darren shook his head, as if casting off a thought or two. "Noffin, noffin, just thought I seen something. Or…" But here he trailed off, and the three men resumed walking, parting unconsciously around Maleficent. They vanished around a corner, and Maleficent moved on.

Soon she came across many more soldiers who were discussing the coming war and the "trouble on the western front." She walked among them, invisible and silent, like an all-seeing ghost. Some of the soldiers glanced about them as if they sensed an odd disturbance in the air but couldn't find its origin.

In no time at all the great, yawning doors of the king's Honorable Audience Chamber beckoned. The door frame was rimmed with ancient-looking hieroglyphs, and a gleaming mahogany floor stretched right up to the unadorned yet intimidating dais where the king and queen's thrones were positioned. They were magnificent in their height; the king's had to be eight feet tall and wrought of gold, silver, and some other new metal: iron.

_Ah_, Maleficent thought. _Of course._

The queen's chair, by comparison, was significantly dwarfed by her husband's. The back was patterned with pink and yellow dyes that had somehow been melded into the wood. There was something else about the thrones, an important detail that could not be overlooked: they were occupied.

King Stefan and his queen, the willowy, dark-eyed Leah, perched upon their thrones as if waiting for the roof to cave in on their heads.

Leah, understandably, was tense and obviously filled with misgivings; she glanced every so often at her husband, who was graying and unkempt and just plain twitchy with madness. He jerked in his chair again and again, in a sporadic pattern, the heels of his boots tapping against the elegantly curved legs. There were six guards in the Honorable Audience Chamber alone; four on the king's side, two on the queen's.

"The hour is upon us," he growled, restless. "We must not wait any longer, else she'll gather her strength and strike us all down where we stand."

Queen Leah shuddered and kept her gaze lowered.

"Men," he barked, and at least four of them jumped before standing dutifully at attention. "It is time for this long-awaited war to commence." King Stefan then nodded to a small, cowering messenger who stood, quivering, in the far corner of the room. There was sweat beaded on his forehead. "Messenger," he called. "You will run to the far corners of the castle and let all who live here know that it is time. We will kill her. We will kill them all."

Queen Leah cleared her throat timidly. "My king, there is an issue concerning –"

"_Silence_, woman," he snapped without glancing away from the doorway. He sensed something…an ominous sort of presence. "I'll hear none of your foolish fears now."

The queen swallowed, cheeks burning at the reprimand, and tried not to grit her teeth. There was the matter of their daughter, the princess, for heaven's sake, but he would not listen, and she dare not take things into her own hands. She did not believe herself capable of devising such a complex plan. _And_, she thought morosely, _let's face it; I'm too afraid_.

Maleficent, meanwhile, was assessing the scene with intense, calculating interest. This was a fascinating exchange she had encroached upon, to be sure, but it was not what she'd come here for. But then, when the queen stiffly asked permission to leave the room, she thought, _Maybe this _is_ what I've come for_.

Queen Leah rose gracefully, though her arms were brittle and the sickly blue veins in her neck shone prominently through her pale skin. Without pondering what might happen as a consequence of her actions, Maleficent darted forward, simultaneously casting aside her magical veneer.

The breath caught in the queen's throat so that she managed to gasp and shriek at the same time. Maleficent startled the queen so terribly that her body went instantly limp, and she had no trouble yanking Leah from the dais completely.

"_Stefan_!" she screamed, but Stefan had stopped moving completely.

A horrible grimace stole over the king's face. "_Maleficent_," he spat, the skin under his eyes rippling with miniscule nerve twitches. His fingers drummed out an unsteady beat on the arms of his throne.

"Indeed," she said in a low voice, watching his face for an alarmed reaction. She _did_ have a dagger, conjured by her green magic, pressed to his queen's delicate throat, after all. "It seems the war has come to _you_, Stefan."

His face grew purple with rage. "_You will not speak my name_!"

"Stefan," she said, and again, "Stefan. I have known your name far longer than any other person alive in this world. Because of all that you've done to me, I should _own_ that name. It is the least you can do." She knew her condescending tone would infuriate Stefan.

And it did.

"_I will kill you_," he hissed hoarsely, rocketing up from his throne. "You will die by my hands, and my face will be the last thing you shall ever see."

The muscles in Maleficent's hands tensed, and this small motion brought the tip of her dagger right up against the queen's neck. A trickle of dark red blood welled up and slid slowly down her throat, which moved up then down as she moaned with terror.

King Stefan glanced at his queen disinterestedly, and a spasm of alarm swept through the fairy queen's body. Maleficent could see at once that grabbing Queen Leah and using her as leverage had been a major error in judgment. The king had obviously grown so out-of-touch with reality over the years, plagued by madness and a deep paranoia, that his co-ruler had come to mean next to nothing to him; he looked as if he barely recognized her, and, seeing this, his queen whimpered despairingly.

Maleficent's lips pressed into a tight line. "You do not care if I kill her," she stated; this was not a question.

The king stared blankly at her, and that was all the answer Maleficent needed. She flung the queen aside, tossing her to the ground like she would a rotten bouquet of wilting flowers. Queen Leah _humph_ed as she hit the ground, and she seemed to shrivel into herself, throwing a teary-eyed glance over her shoulder.

For a brief moment, Maleficent allowed herself to pity the woman. She had not asked to be married to a crazed abomination like Stefan, and she definitely had not wanted her precious daughter, the heir to the throne, to be cast off into the woods like an abandoned orphan, kept away for nearly two decades.

Shaking off her sympathy, Maleficent flicked back her robe, chin raised. "I see. She shall not be part of this then."

Stefan stared malevolently down at her. "You _despicable_ creature. You should have stayed hidden behind your monstrous wall and waited for the war to come to your front doorstep. How _dare_ you bring it to mine."

Maleficent casted wary eyes around her; she was dimly aware that there were ranks of iron-clad soldiers entering from all sides of the Honorable Audience Chamber. They held spears and crossbows and all sorts of metal accessories meant to burn through her skin. She would not back down though; it was too late for that. Besides, this was what she'd come here for. To fight, to end it all.

"You dared to cast a curse on my own daughter, knowing that she would succumb to a death-like sleep if we kept her close to our hearts, here in the castle. And you forced us to part with her for most of her childhood, and now you bring the war _to me_! _HOW DARE YOU_!" he screamed, frothing at the mouth.

"You've been intent on killing my daughter all these years, biding your time until the day she comes of age! You've been waiting for your chance to rid me of my life too, I have no doubt!" King Stefan unsheathed a mighty sword which glittered black and silver in the gloomy light of the Chamber. "Well, _Maleficent_, without your precious wings, I say you shall perish, and all whom you have loved will die terrible, agonizing deaths by your side."

Upon hearing her daughter's demise spoken of again (possibly for the second time, possibly for the hundredth), Queen Leah suddenly flew to her feet and rushed at Maleficent. Her eyes were crazed with fear for her child, and her hands were outstretched, the ends of her fingers hooked into claws. Taken aback, Maleficent reacted quickly, knocking aside her reaching hands and grasping the queen's upper forearms. They struggled for a moment, Maleficent trying to keep the queen at bay so as not to cause her undue harm, Queen Leah attempting to scratch her opponent's eyes out.

"_Enough_!" Stefan bellowed, raising his sword high above his head. "_Soldiers_! Strike down this godless creature!"

At least three dozen men leaped forward to accept their liege lord's challenge.

Thinking quickly, for time was rushing forward in leaps and bounds, Maleficent flicked her fingers at the queen's exposed face. The woman blinked rapidly, seemed to watch an invisible object fly from one side of the room to the other, and then staggered backward, collapsing to the floor in a heap of heavily-jeweled garments. The sleeping spell would last for an hour, two at most – that was more than enough time for Maleficent.

She looked down on the queen again, experiencing another intense flash of sympathy for the woman, when she spied a flicker of motion over by the entranceway. Her head snapped up and her hands immediately burst into green flames, awaiting another foe, but instead she found herself face-to-face with a nightmare of a different sort.

Standing before her was Princess Aurora, and she looked as if her world had just shattered into pieces.

_Oh_, she thought then. _Oh, no_.

* * *

**Comments and reviews are always appreciated ;))**


	12. JUST AN AUTHOR NOTE

**Hello y'all. Obviously I'm running a bit behind with the chapters, so I've decided I'm just going to put the last three chapters all up at once instead of spacing them out even more. Hopefully I'll have them all up within the next two weeks. At least now you have something to look forward to, right?! Thanks for your patience!**

**:)**


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